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Darkness and Dawn 



BY 

MARY C. SLOAN WOODWARD 



Author of "Roses and Thorns" 



11 Build thee more stately mansions, my soul, 

AS (In SWift s/iisijiis roll : 
Lean- thy toir-iiiiiltnt past ! 

Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 
shut thee from heaven wWiadtanemort vast. 

Tilt tluiii ut length art fret . 
Leaving thine outgrown shift by lift 's unresting sea .' " 
— Oliver Wendell Holmes. 




DAYTON, OHIO 

Press of United Brethren Publishing House 

1903 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copiei Received 

AUG 15 1903 

H[ht tntiy 
K XXe. No 

l» I °l 8 
COPY 8. 



Copyright, 1903 

BY 

MARY C. SLOAN WOODWARD 
Osborn, Ohio 



• • • • 
• •••••••■ , . • 

r •*..* s ••!••• • " ■ * 

..... • •■■, •; 



Tr 



XLj Bll /l£>£ ffttenfcs, 

AND ALL TRUE, EARNEST SOULS 
WHO ARE FIGHTING THE RATTLES OF THIS LIFE, 

Zbesc ipoems 

ARE 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

BY THE AUTHOR 



IProem 



May some kind thoughts and wishes here expressed 
Bring hope and comfort to some sorrowing breast, 

And rest and peace impart ; 
Cheer some lone one along life's weary way, 
And paint a fairer and a brighter day 

To some despairing heart. 

May some barque on life's turbid waters tossed, 
With hope deferred and courage almost lost, 

New strength to conquer, gain ; 
May feel within that all is best and right, 
What now seems darkness may be dawning light, 

Be rest, what now is pain. 



Bn Hutobtoorapbical Sketch 



I was born in the village of Jersey Shore, Lycoming County, 
Pennsylvania, July 3, 1833. My mother, Elizabeth Crook, was a 
native of Somersetshire, England, and crossed the ocean with her 
parents at the age of four years. My father, Alexander Sloan, was 
born in Dauphin County, Pennsylvania. When I was eleven months 
old, my parents removed to Montgomery County, Ohio, where they 
resided until the death of my father, which occurred in the year 
1870. 

This long western journey was accomplished in a one-horse 
covered wagon, as the railroad and steam-engine had not yet pene- 
trated the West. 

When I was four years old, I went back to the East with my 
parents to visit relatives. The journey was made in the same man- 
ner, and with the same faithful Canadian pony, and occupied two 
weeks. There: were four of us now, a, baby sister completing the 
party. I distinctly remember little incidents which occurred dur- 
ing the journey and visit. 1 remember in our journey over the 
mountains, of my father getting out of the wagon and getting win- 
tergreen for us to eat; mountain-tea, the people called it. During 
our stay at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, I remember seeing the cars 
for the first time. It was in the evening, and 1 saw the fiery sparks 
issuing from the locomotive, and childlike inquired what it was. 



viii AH AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

My father said that it was the fire-wagon. I rememher, also, of a 
gentleman taking me to the store and buying me candy, little red 
cakes — I can see them yet. How indelible are the impressions made 
in childhood and youth ! 

1 was blessed in childhood with a very retentive memory. My 
■lear mother took great pride in teaching me poems for recitation, 
some of which were qnite long. I remember one of several pages in 
length entitled, "Thomas Brown," which she took great pleasure in 
having me recite to her friends during our visit in the East. It por- 
trayed a young farm laborer and his wife walking out over the fields 
en Sabbath morning in their working clothes, when they were met 
by the minister, who asked them why they did not dress and attend 
church. The first two verses ran thus: 

On a fine Sabbath morn in the sweet month of May, 
When the hawthorne in blossom was seen, 

When perfumes filled the air, and all nature looked gay, 
And the fields wore a livery of green, 

Thomas said to his wife, "The morning is fine; 

Come, let us walk out at our leisure; 
The birds sweetly sing and the meadows are bright, 

And the fields will afford us much pleasure."' 

I have often wished that I could find that old poem which my 
dear mother taught me; and I have wondered whether in my old age, 
if I should reach that period, I can repeat the poems memorized in 
my youth, as she did. I sometimes think that every impression made 
upon the human mind is indelible, and will be remembered at some 
future period; if not in this sphere of existence, perhaps when we 
have passed out of this mortal body. 



AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ix 

When I was nine years aid, I began to attend the public school. 
My mother taught me to read and write before I ever entered the 
school-room ; she did not believe in sending babies to school to learn 
to be bad. 1 well remember how shocked she was when at one time 
I told her of some of the vulgar language winch I had heard from 
some of my schoolmates. 

My first teacher was William MeAndless. The schoolhouse 
was the log cabin which stood on the top of the hill, on the farm 
then owned by the venerable pioneer, John Cuppy, who died at the 
advanced age of one hundred years and three months. On each 
side of the log schoolhouse were long high desks against the wall, 
with benches behind them without backs, one side for boys, the 
other for girls. It was here that the young idea was taught how to 
shoot. Oh, how memory goes back to those happy days! How I 
loved to study, and how proud I was to stand at the head of 'my 
Spel ling-class, for we all stood up twice a day for spelling. 

My teachers have passed away, and many of my schoolmates 
dwell in the land beyond. 

Passing over a portion of my youth, I find myself attending 
school at the academy at New Carlisle, the principal being Prof. 
Thomas Harrison, of blessed memory. This beloved teacher has 
recently passed away at his home in Shelby vi lie, Indiana, at the ad- 
vanced age of ninety years. He was beloved by all his pupils. His 
words of wisdom, his earnest admonitions, and his kind commenda- 
tions, will live forever in memory. His assistant at the academy 
was the Rev. Daniel Berger, now of Dayton, Ohio, also a highly- 
esteemed teacher. 

Many pleasing recollections and precious memories cluster 
around this portion of my youthful days, and I felt as though I could 
have prolonged them indefinitely without ever being weary of study 



x AN AUTOBIOGBAPHICAL SKETCH 

and acquirement of knowledge. Happy, happy days! The greenest 
oasis in the desert of life! The endearing associations which I 
formed here will live in memory while mortal life endures, and in 
the beautiful land beyond the river of death the true old love will 
again be new. 

After I left the academy, I commenced teaching. I soon dis- 
covered, however, that teaching was not my mission. I loved to im- 
part knowledge to the young, but to govern a room fall of pupils, 
all of whom had received different home training, and some of them 
no training at all, was not agreeable to me. If children all came to 
school to learn, instead of coming to annoy the teacher, or coming 
just because their parents send them, no employment could be more 
pleasant. 

If, however, apart from literary work, I could have chosen the 
employment I loved best, I should have been a florist, but that em- 
ployment in those days was under the entire dominion of the sterner 
sex; in this progressive age, a woman may choose almost any busi- 
ness that Inn' talents or her inclinations dictate. 

At the age of twenty-two I was married to Samuel F. Wood- 
ward, of Crawford County, Pennsylvania, who was then a teacher. 
After remaining in Ohio about two years, we removed to Black- 
hawk County, Iowa, where my husband owned a prairie farm, or 
land enough to make one. Thirty miles of that journey were made 
by wagon, for the locomotive had not yet found its way into the 
prairie country to that distance. 

I shall never forget how on that cold and chilly March day, 
when I was chilled to the very bone, we saw in the distance a house 
on our way. When Ave came up to it, we dismounted and entered 
to get warm. How grateful was the warmth that issued from that 
kitchen stove. The house was on the prairie farm then owned by 



AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xi 

Samuel Heedwohl. We in due time arrived at our destination, and 
found shelter with kind friends. 

We remained in Iowa hut one summer. We did not like the 
climate, and were disappointed in many other respects. I remember 
at one time being alone in a severe storm, and a storm on the prairie 
is something to he dreaded. I thought every moment I should he 
carried off into space, or the house come down upon my head. It 
finally abated, however, leaving me with whole hones, hut much 
frightened. 

How well I rememher when, in the beautiful autumn weather, 
Ave again turned our faces hack toward dear old Ohio — the place 
where, the world was made aud the best material used up. We were 
coming hack to God's country, the dearest spot in the universe. I 
never longed so much to look upon the giant trees of the forest as 
I did when ou the prairies of Iowa. What was called timber there 
was little scrubby bushes not worthy of the name of forest-trees. 

I have always been glad that we left the West and left the farm. 
Farm life never had any charms for me; I am too gregarious; I was 
born in town. The pleasures of rural life for me are "all in books." 

In the autumn of 1859, we came to Osborn, to the house now 
owned by Amos Swart ly, which was then owned by my father. We 
lived there for five years. We then purchased the home owned now 
by Doctor Folck, where we resided until the fall of 1ST~>, when we 
occupied our present residence. 

I have been inclined to write from girlhood. One of the first 
rhymes I ever rememher putting into form began thus: 

Once I chased a butterfly 
As she gayly flitted by, 
Spread her pinions in the air, 
Beautiful and free and fair. 



xi i AN A UTOBIOORA PHICA L SKETi II 

Round and round she tempting flew, 
Spread her wings of golden hue; 
When I thought she was my own, 
All! she flew; my prize was gone. 

Still I grasped, but all in vain; 
She her freedom did retain; 
Soon she vanished out of sight 
And resumed her onward flight. 

Earthly things must fade and die, 
Vanish like the butterfly, — 

I have forgotten the rest. 

In the year 1880, my dear mother passed beyond, and the old 
home was broken. Two brothers and two sisters survive. 

I have thrown these few incidents of my childhood and youth 
hastily together, hoping they may interest the reader. 

Thorns and roses have mingled together in my life, as in all 
other lives. We sometimes feel that the thorns predominate, but, 
in the language of a young friend, "The thorns were given for the 
perfection and not for the protection of the roses." We must sub- 
mit to the inevitable, confidently believing that "whatever is, is 
best," with the full assurance that, in the clearer light of the beyond, 
all things, even those which have appeared to our finite vision to be 
impenetrable mysteries, will be made plain. There we shall know 
and realize that the bitterest trials through which we have passed 
were sent only to purify and refine our spiritual natures, and enable 
each soul to come forth purged from the dross of this material exis- 
tence, and fit it for the enjoyment of the beautiful life beyond, where 



AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xiii 

eternal progression will be the guerdon and compensation for all 
the sorrows and disappointments of this lower sphere. 

Our paths through the vales of mystery lie; 

The storm on the ocean's breast 
The good ship oft to the harbor brings ; 
"Whatever is, is best." 

M. C. S. W. 



DawM 



Contents 



A National Sin ....... 21 

Oh, for a Race of Noble Men ... - - 25 

After the War ........ 21 

Our Dead President .... 28 

Our New Stars ........ 29 

Francis Scott Key, Author of "The Star Spangled Banner." 31 

Sow Thy Seed - - - - - - . - - 32 

Pass It By - ....... 33 

The Suicide --------- 34 

Death of a Beautiful Child ---... 3(5 

Absent Friends - - ----- 37 

New Year — January 1899 ...... 33 

Bow We Watch for the Buds - - 39 

Little Things ...... _j.q 

My Roses ------- 41 

Pratt. Inscribed to P. N. - 42 

To My California Friends. On Receiving Photographs - - 44 

Idle Tears ------._. 45 

Give Me the Fltiwors Now ------- 46 

The Child Stolen By the Indians - 48 

Some One to Love Me ------- 49 

To , On Her Wedding Day - 50 

We Shall Know. To An Invalid Lady ----- 50 

SONNETS— 

Time . 55 

Change . 5 6 

Sympathy . 56 

Forgiveness ---... 57 

To-day's Record - • - - . . . - 58 

Immortality ---.... 53 



xvi CONTEXTS 

PAGE 

No Sting in Death - 59 

Longing for Peace - - - - (JO 

The New Century— 1901 60 

Love's Foundation - 61 

My Ideal 62 

Gratitude - 62 

Alone - - 63 

Stand for the Right 64 

My Dreams 64 
The Price of Liberty 



G5 



69 

70 



The Cook's Lament - 66 

Harmony - - 

Unfulfilled 67 

Death Better Than Estrangement - 68 
On Receiving a Bouquet of Rhododendron Blossoms Which Came from 

the Allegheny Mountains, July 1, 1875 - 
Little Bennie's Christmas - 

The Mother's Valentine - 71 

Tell Me, Sweet Rose 72 

Broken Idols - '3 

The Old Log Schoolhouse 74 

Why Should I Care - ^ 

From Little to Greater - 78 

A Prayer - "9 

The Chalice of Fate 80 

Look Beyond - - - 81 

Something to Love - 8 - J 

Old Age 83 

The New Woman - - 8 ^ 

In Memoriam, E. S. Van. G. 85 

He Who Does the Best He Can 8 ? 
An Act of Kindness - 

Thoughts on the Death of a Dear Friend 89 

Under the Plum Trees - - 90 

A Prayer for Patience - - "*• 
A Maiden's Sorrow 

Thank God for Night and Rest- 95 

Our Budget. To the Entre Nous Club - 97 
Love's Surcease 



CONTENTS xv ii 

PAGE 

To a Graduating- Class - 99 

Nipped In the Bud - - - - 100 

Have Been ------ - 102 

Bury the Thorns - - - 109 

"Kind Hearts Are More Than Coronets" — Tennyson - - 105 

New- Year's Thoughts .... 106 

Heart Longings - - - 107 

Death - - - - - - - 108 

Kind Wishes for a Young Minister - - 109 

Can'st Thou Not Wait - - - - 111 

The Tramp - - 112 

A Lover's Soliloquy - - - - - - - 114 

The Rumseller's Retribution - - 115 

In the Rose Garden - - 116 

Thoughts --------- H9 

When You Were Wed - - - - 120 

True Heroes - - 121 
Written In Commemoration of the Seventy-first Birthday of a Friend, 

December 19. 1899 ------ 122 

A Parody --.-.... 124 

My Darling's Silvery Hair - - 125 

Autumn --------- 126 

To a Veteran Temperance Reformer on Her Eightieth Birthdav, April 

25, 1896 - - - . ... 127 

1901-1902 ........ 128 

In Memory of a Dear School Friend - - - - 129 

Come Into the Sunshine - - - - 130 

To a Baby Boy -------- 131 

Sometime - - - 132 

In the Saloon - - - - - 133 

To a Bride - ' - - 135 

A Christmas Thanksgiving - 136 

Forsaken - . .... 138 

My Dreamland Home - 139 

Death of a Mother - --.... 140 

Birthday Thoughts. To an Old School Friend - - - 141 

Weep Not - - - - - - 143 

The Fairer Shore, ------- 141 

Submissive But Not Reconciled ------ 145 



xviii CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Life's Bitterest Lesson - - 146 

Home Courtesy - **J 

To , On a Seventy-seventh Birthday, August 21, 1899 149 

House-Cleaning - - - - 150 

The Norn De Plume 150 

Nearer the Goal. A Sacred Song - 151 

My Own - 152 

If I Could Make a World - - 1M 

My Heaven - - - . 155 

The Rose - - 156 



Not All In Vain 



157 



^Darkness anfc SDawn 



SDarkness anfc SDawn 



A NATIONAL SIN. 

Inscribed to Boys and Young Men. 

"This grain of sand and tears we call the world" 

Grows much that 's beautiful, and much that comes 

We know not why; perchance to cultivate 

And teach us patience; nurture that within 

Which fortifies as against adverse fate. 

Creative power has furnished fruits and flowers 

In bounteous numbers; but for every flower 

And luscious fruit that grows there comes to prey 

Upon their beauty and utility 

A noxious insect, to devour their sweets 

And sap their juices. 

But fair Nature's hand 
Hath sent an antidote, a poisonous plant 
Which will destroy and banish insect pests, 
A baneful weed— Nicotian is its name. 
The lowest beasts of all created kind, 
The filthy swine, turn from it in disgust ; 
But man, the creature whom 't is writ was formed 
In God's own image, doth his laws pervert; 



DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Adverse to nature, holds this poisonous weed 
Higher than food, than health, than aught beside, 
Than pure, clean air, the gift of God to earth, 
Which his fair image has no right to taint 
With foul contamination; than clean homes; 
E'en in the home, which should be sweet and pure, 
The wife must take the pestilential air 
Into her being; babes must take with their 
First breath, into their tender lungs, the foul 
And noxious fumes, the baneful atmosphere ; 
And cleaning cuspidors becomes the daily toil 
Of her who makes a habitable place, 
Howe'er repugnant this foul task may be 
To her chaste nature, hateful though it be 
To scrub and scald the foul receptacles. 
Home, which should be the purest spot on earth. 
Home, where no foul disgusting scents should till 
Each hall and corridor, to garments cling 
And to the walls, hiding away, the germs, 
In secret places, of disease and death. 

Why will man cling to this disgusting weed? 
Would he enjoy seeing his mother smoke. 
Sister or wife? Not one iota more 
Than they, does he need filthy nicotine. 
I think me of the little child who asked, 
"What ails my papa's mouf? The kisses don't 
Taste good." Young lover, how would you enjoy 
Seeing your sweetheart soiling her pure lips 
With cigarettes? Would you not loathe the sight? 
Oh, that the pulpit would cry out against 



A NATIONAL SIN 23 

This sly octopus ! Stealthily he winds 

With deathlike grip his strong and slimy arms 

Around unwary, unsuspecting youth 

Who fall, unwarned, into the fatal snare. 

"Touch not the unclean thing!" should echo from 

Pulpit and press. The warning should go forth 

From every teacher, whose prerogative 

It is to mold the plastic mind of youth. 

The faithful teacher wields a mighty power, 

Second to none, a potent force for good. 

Young men, dear hoys, let me appeal to you. 

The aged sinner is to reason dumb, 

His moral sense hedimmed by clouds of smoke — 

I waste no words on him. Like Ephriam, he 

Turns to his idols; but for you, young men 

And growing youth, there yet is ample time 

To pause, and leave untouched the "unclean thing," 

To hurst the fetters that have chained you down, 

Making you slaves, slaves to a filthy vice; 

Yes, vice I call it, needless, useless vice, 

One which not only brings no good, but ill, 

And calls for other vices — wine, strong drink. 

And others still, too base for words or speech. 

Its injuries are mental, physical, 

And moral ; it involves useless expense. 

Young men, leaving the sin, think of the moneyed cost 

Of this disgusting habit. 

You may think 
This small consideration — nay, not so. 
Littles will make a muckle, and the man 



124 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Who lives to threescore years, or three and ten, 
And has been slave -for all these years to this 
Degrading vice, has chewed or smoked away 
A splendid home, with all its comforts and 
Conveniences, and lives, perchance, and dies 
Without a shelter for his age. 

Oh, rise, 
Young man, and strike your shackles off 
Ere 't is too late; before (lie demon binds 
You hand and foot, stand forth, and be a man, 
Not a bond slave, who art a freeman born. 

God ! if I could know that word of mine 
Would cause one youth to turn aside and pause 
Upon the precipice of what may be 
The wreck of manhood — to shrink back appalled 
And seek the safer path ; could I persuade 
Some boy, or some young man, to keep and hold 
What they might waste in smoke and nastiness, 
To rear some time a home, for which all men 
Long soon or late ; to make one pure and clean 
And beautiful for one he will, some day, 
('all by the name of wife, I would rejoice 
And count my guerdon more than if I had 
Unearthed with my own hand a mine of gold. 



OH, FOR A RACE OF NOBLE MEN! 25 



OH, FOR A RACE OF NOBLE MEN! 

Oh, for a race of noble, upright men 

To people this fair land, 
To rule through all her vast and great domain 

From ocean's breadth to strand. 

To breathe through every home, and in each heart 

Infuse new power for right; 
Each soul with lofty purposes inspire 

And make its future bright. 

Oh, for a race of honest men, on whom 

All safely can rely, 
Whose word is true and sacred as a bond, 

Enduring as the sky. 

Men who, for lucre's sake, cannot be bought, 

Cannot be bribed or sold, 
Men to whom honor is a dearer boon 

Than greed and love of gold. 

Oh, for a race of men whose love of truth 

Shines like a morning star, 
And o'er life's deep, dark, bois'trous ocean beams 

A beacon from afar. 

Men whose true lives trail falsehood in the dust. 
Whom foul dishonor's stain 



26 DARKNESS AND DA WN 

lias never marred the spirit — never bound 
It by its galling ehain. 

Oh, for a race of noble, manly men, 

AY bo scorn ignoble deeds, 
Who have in life a high and lofty aim, 

YVbate'er may be their creeds. 

Whose love of country rises far above 

The love of self or gain, 
Who never swerve from virtue's sacred path, 

Who dare the right maintain. 

I bow to greatness — greatness grand and good, 

And intellect adore; 
1 honor all the virtues, great and small ; 

Their absence I deplore. 

But be be honored sage or humble page, 

Though under many a ban, 
I bring to him my tribute of regard, 

The honest, truthful man. 



AFTER THE WAR 



AFTER THE WAR. 

(Tune: "After the Ball.") 

"Weep not, my darling, nay do not chide; 
Naught else could tear me thus from your side. 
Our country calls me, and I must go; 
True manhood never turns from her foe. 
Your love shall cheer me, brighten my way, 
While for the absent daily you pray. 
Hearts beat together though sundered far; 
I '11 come to claim you after the war." 

"Papa must leave you," a fond father said ; 
"We must avenge the Maine's murdered dead; 
Down-trodden Cuba we must set free; 
Spanish oppression silenced must be. 
Courage, my dear ones, till upon high 
Liberty's ensign floats in the sky, 
Freedom's fair banner gains a new star; 
We '11 all be happy after the war." 

Lovers and husbands all say farewell, 
Gone the brave number proudly to swell ; 
Gone to defend with their latest breath 
Liberty, dear in life and in death. 
Many have fallen, heroes so brave 
Near Santiago rest in the grave; 
Some will return, with many a scar 
Sacred to freedom, after the war. 



28 DARKNESS AND DA WN 



CHORUS. 



After the war is over, after the fight is done, 

After the hell of battle, after the vict'ry 's won, 

Many the eyes that are weeping for the loved that sleep afar; 

Many the fond hearts bleeding, after the war. 



OUR DEAD PRESIDENT— WILLIAM McKINLEY. 

Assassinated September 6, 1901. Died at Buffalo, New York, 
September 14, 1901. 

On, how inscrutable thy ways, Omnipotence! 

The base, the vile, the cumberers of the ground, 

The gross, the coarse, the ignorant, live on; 

But he, the great and grand embodiment 

Of noble manhood, by a traitor's hand 

Is, under guise of friendship, stricken down ; 

Again the murderous fiat has gone forth, 

The call been answered by our "uncrowned king." 

With Lincoln passed, and Garfield crossed the flood, 

Our "trinity of martyrs'' is complete. 

Our eyes are holden, and we fathom not 

While denizens within this shadow land, 

"This grain of sand and tears we call the world," 

The Eternal purpose. 

Oh, be comforted, 
My stricken country ! Death to thee may bring 



OUR NEW STARS 29 

More than thy faithful servant's earnest life, 

Loyal in peace and war ; may bring thee strength, 

Inspire to guide into serener seas 

The nation's ship; to guard our liberty, 

The sacred trust secured and bought by blood, 

With greater zeal, with ceaseless vigilance. 

"God's way," although to finite mind appears 

Austere and bitter, must be best and right. 



OUR NEW STARS.* 

When "Old Glory'' first went floating out upon the morning breeze, 

Wafted by the air of freedom, o'er the rocks and rills and trees. 

All her stripes were broad and beauteous, but her stars as vet were 

few, 
For but thirteen only sparkled from her sky of azure blue. 

But as we have grown and prospered, many more have found their 

way 
To adorn our glorious banner, and they all have come to stay; 
And Hawaii has sought refuge in our Uncle Sam's domain, 
Where she feels her rest securer than when under queenly reign. 

There is Porto Rico, too, is safe within (he shelt'ring fold. 
Safe from cruel Spain's oppression, from her tyrannies untold; 
For above her now is waving high the ensign of the free, 
And sweet Freedom's arms will girdle soon the islands of the sea. 

♦September, 1898. 



30 D A I! K NESS A ND DAW TV 

Cuba, too, that land of torture, and of wretchedness supreme, 
Where in bondage, dark and bitter, not a single cheering beam, 
Through the long, long years she suffered; now she, too, beholds on 

high 
Liberty's proud banner floating in the breezes of her sky. 

Soon she, too, will knock for entrance, and we will not say her nay; 
Many more may wish to join her in the islands far away; 
And when history records the facts and horrors of the wars, 
She will also tell how brilliant are our Uncle Sam's new stars. 



FRANCIS SCOTT KEY 31 



FRANCIS SCOTT KEY, 

Author of "The Star Spangled Banner." 
(To the Key Monument Association ) 

Let us rear him a stone all enduring as Time, 

Which shall rise toward heaven in grandeur imposing, 

Which shall speak to the nation in language sublime 
Of the patriot dust here in silence reposing. 

Let us write his loved name in the annals of Fame, 

Let us herald his praises in letters of flame 

Who has given to onr nation the "Song of the Free," 

And revered evermore may his memory he. 

May the "Star-Spangled Banner," that soul-stirring strain, 

Be forever enshrined in the heart of the nation ; 
By her patriot sons may the thrilling refrain 

Be reechoed and sung throughout time's generation. 
In this Heaven-favored land may this monument stand, 
Be its pride and its glory from ocean to strand ; 
And the flag of our country triumphantly wave 
O'er the soil where there breathes not a serf nor a slave. 



32 DARKNESS AND DA WN 



SOW THY SEED. 

Sow the seeds of truth and wisdom 

On the parched and arid ground, 
Even though the thorns and thistles 

Rise about you all around. 
Pluck them gently and remove them, 

And some tiny seed may spring, 
Nourished by the rain and sunshine, 

Rich and perfect fruit may bring. 

Sow the seeds of love and kindness. 

Scatter them where'er you go ; 
Oft the broad and rolling rivers 

From the little streamlets flow ; 
From the seeds which erst have fallen, 

Scattered by the summer breeze, 
Come the strong, protecting branches 

Of the stately sheltering trees. 

Cast thy bread upon the waters, 

Though it seem to float away ; 
'T will return to bless and cheer thee, 

Bring thee joy some future day. 
Send some little ray of sunlight 

That may reach the darkened breast. 
That may cheer the soul benighted, 

Give the weary spirit rest. 



PASS IT BY • !:i 



PASS IT BY. 

If yon hear the word unkind, 

Fass it by; 
Let its voice no refuge find, 

Pass it by ; 
Let its memory decay; 
Let it pass from thought away; 
Kindness is the better way — 

I';iss it by. 

If assailed by slander's dart, 

Pass it by; 
Though you feel the stinging smart, 

Pass it by. 
Let your heart feel no alarm ; 
It may strike, but cannot harm 
If upheld by truth's strong arm — 

Pass it by. 

If your friend should prove untrue, 

Pass it by; 
Disappointment 's nothing new. 

Pass it by. 
Ebb and flow, and rise and fall, 
Is the lot and fate of all. 
Confidence misplaced, that 's all — 

Pass it by. 



34 



DARKNESS AND DA WN 

Should you suffer cruel wrong, 

Pass it by ; 
Let endurance make you strong, 

Pass it by. 
There 's a purpose in each pain; 
Seeming loss is always gain; 
Sunshine comet h after rain — 

Pass it by. 



THE SUICIDE. 

Life's burden was all too heavy, 

And she fainted by the way; 
And out from the earth bound prison 

The spirit sped away. 
So worn by the world's hard battle, 

Its conflicts of toil and strife, 
What wonder she fell in the struggle 

And yielded this joyless life? 

Nay, judge her not, for its weakness 

The crushed heart only knows; 
None can fathom another's sorrow 

Or measure the depth of woes. 
Many braver and stronger spirits, 

'Neath their weight of pain and grief, 
Have slipped from their earthly moorings, 

Thus hoping to find relief. 



THE SUICIDE 35 

There lias many a ship been builded, 

With her timbers large and wide, 
And deemed with her strength and prowess 

All worthy to stem the tide; 
But the storm came with wild, mad fury, 

And it struck her a fatal blow ; 
Her timbers were rent asunder 

And she sank to the <h'ptlis below. 

Nay, judge not harshly the spirit 

Unmanned by its weight of pain; 
Speak only with tender pity 

AN 7 lien it seeks to rend its chain. 
Somewhere all earth's erring children, 

Stricken down by the shafts of Fate, 
Shall be clothed with new strength to conquer — 

For this let us watch and wait. 



36 



DARKNESS AND DA ll'.Y 



DEATH OF A BEAUTIFUL CHILD. 

Another cherished lamb has passed death's portal, 
Is gathered to the fold, 

Is sheltered safely in the home immortal 
From all earth's storms and cold. 

Another fragrant rosebud from our keeping. 

Severed with tender care; 
And while our hearts are for its absence weeping, 

Adorns a realm more fair. 

An angel mother comes with loving greeting. 

With fond embraces dear; 
And could our eyes behold that blissful meeting 

We would not drop one tear. 

To the dear girl whose patience and affection. 

Who, with a mother's care, 
Gave to the helpless babe her kind protection, 

Her guardian love to share, 

Her angel presence comes with fond caressing 

To comfort and to cheer. 
Bringing her constant love and earnest blessing 

To all the loved ones dear. 

Could we but gaze into her life's to-morrow, 

If she had lingered here. 
How much she has escaped of grief and sorrow, 

Note with each passing year, 



ABSENT FRIENDS 37 

We would rejoice that from earth's pain and sadness 

Her spirit finds release, 
Happy with loved ones on the shores of gladness, 

Where dwelleth rest and peace. 

Sweet child, farewell, until, with open vision 

Beyond this fleeting breath, 
We '11 greet thee on the radiant plains Elysian, 

Where there shall come no death. 



ABSENT FRIENDS. 

I HUNGEB to-night for the dear old faces 

That greeted me often in days of yore; 
1 am Longing again for the fond embraces 

Of cherished friends that I meet no more. 

I hunger to-night for the smiles of gladness 

From lips that my eyes can no longer see, 
The warm-hand-clasp and the tried old friendship 

That distance and time rend away from me. 

They are basking to-night in the balmy breezes 

of the sunny southland down by the sea, 
With their new-found joys and their new-formed friendships 

Gilding with radiance their home to he. 

And I think me oft' do their hearts turn backward 
To the home that without them seems drear ami lone. 

Do memories sometimes come rushing o'er them, 
Like autumn leaves by the breezes blown? 



38 



DARKNESS AND DAWN 



NEW YEAR— JANUARY 1899. 

Another year of life's deep problem solved 

For good or ill ; 
With us is left the guerdon or the pain 

To tarry still. 

Another milestone on our journey passed 

We leave behind, 
With hope that Destiny, each future year, 
May still be kind. 

Another revolution of the wheel 

Of tireless Fate, 
And what his mandates to our lives may bring 

We can but wait. 

Another page in characters of fire 

On mem'ry traced, 
That, though it travel down the tide of years, 

Is not effaced. 

If trials make thee pure and strong, my soul, 

All loss is gain; 
May Heaven give patience every grief to bear 

And sweeten pain. 

If thou hast given the best thou hadst to give 
In earth's short strife, 



HOW WE WATCH FOE THE BUDS 39 

The conquest is not lost — thou hast approached 
Diviner life. 

If thou hast deeply, bitterly deplored 

All sin and wrong, 
The solemn, earnest vow, the firm resolve 

Has made thee strong. 

We fathom not what future years may bring 

( )f pain or rest ; 
We only know that good o'ershadows all, 

And all is best. 



HOW WE WATCH FOR THE BUDS. 

How we watch for the buds and the flowers! 

How we wait for their cups to unfold! 
Yet we know that the spring, witli its sweet blossoming, 

Soon is gone like a tale that is told. 

How we wait for the buds of the heart ! 

Long to see them in beauty unroll; 
Yet Distrust's chilling breath oft consigns them to death. 

Leaving darkness and void in the soul. 

Death claims every blossom and hud. 

I low we sorrow to see them depart ! 
But when Love's roses die, oh, how hitter the sigh! 

All the sunlight goes out of the heart. 



4(1 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



LITTLE THINGS. 

Little seeds by the wayside fallen, 

Scattered around by the birds and breeze, 

Fed by the air and the rain and sunshine, 
Form the stately and sheltering trees. 

Little streams through the meadow flowing, 
Little rills from the mountain side, 

All go swelling and rushing onward. 
Forming the river so deep and wide. 

Little actions of love and mercy 
Scatter sunbeams along life's way, 

Light up the shadows around us falling, 
Driving doubt and distrust away. 

Words of sympathy kindly spoken 
Oft give comfort in hours of grief, 

Bring sweet rest to the burdened spirit, 
(live to the sorrowing blest relief. 

Even thoughts that with love come freighted, 
Bring a balm to the suffering breast, 

Gently fall like the dew from heaven, 
(Jive to the weary one peace and rest. 



MY HOSES 41 



MY ROSES. 

How dear to my heart are the beautiful roses! 
Of all Nature's beauties I love them the best: 
Each bud in its green, glossy foliage reposes, 
An emblem of purity, sweetness, and rest. 

Their fragrance each morn tills my spirit with gladness; 
I drink in their loveliness, fresh as the May; 

But each beauteous bud I remember, with sadness, 
With all earthly visions must soon pass away. 

The beautiful roses, the sweet, fragrant roses. 
The dear, smiling roses will soon pass away. 

There 's lovely Hermosa, my bright little treasure, 

She 's budding and blooming the whole summer through ; 
Clotilda* gives also unspeakable pleasure, 

She always is loaded with sweet blossoms, too. 
Paul Neyron comes forth in his tall regal splendor, 

A king among roses — would that he could stay; 
But he to the frost-king must likewise surrender, 

And like all things mundane must soon pass away. 
The beautiful roses, the pure, fragrant roses. 

The dear smiling roses must soon pass away. 

I think as 1 gaze on my sweet floral treasures 

Of roses unfading, to bloom by and by; 
When winter's stern hand will not steal the fond pleasures. 

No cold chilling blasts will sweep dark o'er the sky. 

''Clotilda Soupert. 



42 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

La France will be fair as the golden-hued morning 
When she opens her buds in the beautiful May, 

For sometime and somewhere will come a bright dawning, 
Where summer's dear roses will not pass away — 

The pure, fragrant roses, the dearly loved roses, 
The sweet, smiling roses will not pass away. 



PRATT. 

Inscribed to P. N. 

Out upon the rolling prairie, 

Far away, 
Down the years my fancy travels. 

One bright day 
Sat a mischief-loving urchin, 

Having fun. 
Little thinking, caring less of 

Mischief done, 

Breaking jugs. 

Near sat grandpa, 'neath a shade-tree, 
Watching Pratt. 

"That boy '11 never 'mount to row of 
Pins; mind that," 

Grandpa said, as he sat scowling- 
Down at Pratt. 

"Never 'mount to nothin' nohow, 
'Member that. 

Breaking jugs." 



PR A TT 43 



Years arc gone; the boy lias crown up 

Big and tall ; 
Never thinks no more of breaking 

Jugs at all. 
Now if grandpa 'd come to see him, 

Guess be 'd say, 
"Got no time to spend or money 

The old way, 

Breaking jugs."' 

Grandpa M change his mind if he could 

See him now, 
Sowing seed, and breaking sod up 

With the plow; 
Got no time for any nonsense 

Now has Pratt ; 
(Jot to work for wife and babies; 

Father Pratt 

Breaks no jugs. 



44 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



TO MY CALIFORNIA FRIENDS, 

On receiving photographs. 

Three beautiful pictures to-day came to me, 

Three pictures in one, and one in three, 

As fine-looking gents as you '11 anywhere see. 

Three generations a story unfold, 

Telling how gracefully we may grow old. 

Old, did I say? I mean handsome and young, 
Fresh as the breeze from the orange groves Hung. 
Grandpa with stately and dignified grace, 
Manly Horatio with bright, winsome face, 

And dear little Fred, who resembles, 1 wot, 
Our Blanchie when she was a wee little tot— 
Denizens worthy the rich, golden State, 
Worthy the smiles and the favors of Fate. 

We thank you, kind friends, and your gift we will prize. 
May fortune send blessings and bright sunny skies; 
May harmony sweet in your dwellings abide, 
And bear you safe over life's turbulent tide. 



IDLE TEARS 45 



*November 28, 1901. 



IDLE TEARS. 

The tears unbidden fall 

This bright Thanksgiving Day,* 
And thoughts of sadness fill the heart, 

Though earth is fair and gay. 

Tears for the unfulfilled, 

All idle though they be, 
And mem'ry's wail is heard to-day 

O'er life's regretful sea. 

Tears for the starving heart — 
But naught can tears avail ; 

They bring no food to hungry souls 
Whom famine's pangs assail. 

Tears for the blighted hopes 
Which once made life so sweet, 

Tears for the unrelenting fate 
The stricken heart must meet. 

Tears for the wasted years, 

Years of unrest and pain; 
Though lost they seem to mortal sense. 

Yet Heaven may count them gain. 

Tears for all errors past, 

And fervent prayer to Heaven 

For strength to buffet all life's waves 
While by earth's tempests driven. 



DARKNESS AND I) A WW 



GIVE ME THE FLOWERS NOW. 

I stood to-day by the open grave 
Of one once so young and fair, 

And roses sweet decked her cold, white brow, 

And lay in her clustering hair; 
And my heart cried out as 1 gazed upon 

The roses that pressed her brow, 
"Don't keep them all for my cold, dead form, 

But give me the flowers now." 

Her life path was dark, and its desert sands 

Her weary, lone feet had pressed; 
With sorrow and tears her heart was tilled. 

By the sunshine of love unblest ; 
But when death came, there were willing hands 

To place roses upon her brow; 
But within my soul rose the earnest prayer, 

"Oh, give me the roses now !" 

Oh, give me the flowers from friendship's tree, 

To gladden life's lonely way ! 
Oh, scatter their fragrance along the path, 

Wherever my feet may stray ; 
For I cannot enjoy their sweet perfume 

When they grace my marble brow; 
I need them now to sustain and cheer — 

Oh, I want the flowers now 



! 



GIVE ME THE FLOWERS .Von* 

Oh, give me, dear friends, the flowers of truth 

And affection, pure and sweet; 
They will pave thro' the mountain steeps of life 

A path for my weary feet. 
Don't keep them hid till the death damps come 

And gather upon my brow; 
The cold white clay cannot answer hack. 

Oh, I want the flowers now! 

The flowers of sympathy — how they lift 

The burdens we all must hear! 
They gild and brighten each lonely hour, 

And lighten full many a care; 
But the silent form does not feel their breath, 

Though entwined on the clay cold brow — 
Oh, friends, dear friends, while my heart heats warm, 

Oli, give me the flowers now! 



48 I>. I R KNJB&S A.\/> I). 1 WX 



THE CHILD STOLEN BY THE INDIANS 

We had pitched out tent in the forest wild, 

Where the merciless red man trod, 
And had there made a home for our darlings three, 

Afar from our native sod. 

One day by our home passed an Indian hand. 

As my dear ones were out at play, 
When a fierce, rude chief seized my eldest horn 

And sped like the wind away. 

O happy mothers whose cherished ones 

Are safe in the dear home nest, 
You can never know of the anguish wild, 

And the torture that rent my breast 

When I thought of my tender nurseling's pain, 

Torn rudely from love's fond arms, 
And dragged away amid savage haunts 

And the red man's dread alarms. 

But there seemed a something within my soul 

To tell me she 'd yet he found ; 
So I wailed and watched for the red man's march 

As he roamed the forest round. 

Long years had passed, when an Indian band 

Passed by me and I espied 
A fair, sweet maiden with golden hair; 

The breeze blew her curls aside, 



SOME ONE TO LOVE ME 49 

And there, oh, joy! was the fiery mark 

Which my darling from birth had bore, 
And I pressed my child to my longing breast, 

Safe, safe in my arms once more. 



SOME ONE TO LOVE ME. 

Some one to love me, and some one to love; 

Naught in the world is more precious than this; 
Nothing on earth, in the heavens above. 

Brings sweeter pleasure or more perfect bliss. 
What sacred joy can my heart prize above 
Some one to love me, and some one to love? 

Some one to love me, and some one to love; 

What dearer boon can a mortal possess? 
Moments glide by on the wings of a dove. 

Bringing new gladness my being to bless. 
Joyous my spirit like angels above, 
Some one to love: me, and some one to love. 

Some one to love me. and some one to love; 

Love is the sunlighi which gladdens the sonl. 
Bears it aloft as if soaring above; 

Peace tills the moments as onward they roll. 
Some one to love me, <> blest angel Love! 
Rest in my bosom, thou beautiful dove. 

4 



50 DA /.' KNESS A XD I>A]\ 'X 



TO , ON HER WEDDING DAY. 

My wish, my dear young friend, is not that you 

He rich or great, 
But that you 've found for all life's journey through 

Your soul's true mate — 

A heart that through earth's darkness or its day, 

Sunlight »»r storm, 
Though "roses" bloom or "thorns" bestrew the way, 

Beats true and warm. 

May Heaven's choicest benedictions rest 

Upon your head. 
The angels joy in their dominion blest 

When soul-mates wed. 



WE SHALL KNOW. 

To an invalid lady. 

We shall know when we stand on the shores of the blest 

And recline in their sweet, fragrant bowers, 
Why the thorns pierce our feet in the journey beneath, 

And are mingled and strown with the flowers; 
Why the sky is with blackness and shadows o'ercast, 

And the sunshine is hid from our gaze; 
Why grief's raven wing hovers over our life 

As we wait through the long weary days. 



WE SHALL KNOW 51 

We shall know when we walk in the gardens beyond, 

All free from earth's anguish and strife, 
Where the spirit is free to unfold and expand 

And to grow into beautiful life, 
Why the chalice of bitterness came. to our lips 

In the radiance of youth's sunny morn, 
And the rosy lined hopes of the bright days to come 

From our grasp were all shaken and torn. 

Take courage, dear heart, may the angel of Peace 

And Patience lean close to thy breast, 
Sweet muses bring gladness and cheer to thy soul 

And soothe thy tired spirit to rest. 
.May this precious gift give thee solace for grief 

And lift thee above earth's unrest, 
Bring sweet compensation for pleasures denied 
And make hours of loneliness blest. 

Take courage, dear heart, for a rainbow will shine 

Though the shadows hang over thy sky; 
'T will illumine thy path with its golden lined light 

In time and the blest "By and By." 
The gold in thy spirit, by suff'ring refined, 

Shall beam with a luminous glow; 
The mysteries here which our being surround 

Some day will be plain — we shall know. 



Sonnets 



Sonnets 



TIME. 



Time places an the brow in youth's fair morn 
A peerless diadem of radiant stars. 
All bright and shining. 

"With their lustrous beams 
They banish darkness in perpetual day, 
They glow and glitter on through joyous youth. 
Gilding its gladsome way, its rose-strewn path — 
The path all decked with flowers fragrant and sweet- 
And shine with ray serene through manhood's prime 

Then,- as the years glide on, their brightness wanes. 

Their lustrous eyes grow dim, their brilliancy 

Departs; the shadows rise and fall around. 

And, one by one, he snatches them away 

And leaves hut darkness, weariness, and night, 

And recketh not the ruin he hath wrought. 



56 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



CHANGE. 

A friend said, as she looked into my face, 

"I low you have changed since first I met you." Change 

Is written on all mundane things, and on 

Things supermundane also. If we find 

Eternal progress in that higher sphere 

To which we all are tending, we must change. 

'T is said, "All change is gain; there is no loss," 

Though flesh rebels and finite vision fails 

To penetrate life's hidden mysteries. 

If change brings rest and peace, and we can sense 

The new condition, we can feel content; 

But if we fail to understand, *t is left 

Us only trust, trust in the Great All-Soul, 

Who holds eternity, all time, all space. 



SYMPATHY. 

O Sympathy, thou dearest, rarest flower 
That blooms along life's rugged toil-worn way. 
Thy fragrance brings a sweet and subtle power 
That lifts from out the darkness into day. 
Thou lily pure! thou rose without a thorn! 
Linger, dear presence, ever fond and true, 



FORGIVENESS 57 

New life to fainting hearts and souls that mourn 
Fills all thy pearly caps like evening dew. 
Oh, lead ine where these peerless blossoms blow 
When I sink down aweary with life's pain; 
And let the healing halm their sweets bestow, 
Woo hack my heart to duty's path again; 
My burdens lighter grow when thou art near, 
And sunlight streams among the shadows drear. 



FORGIVENESS. 

DlVlNEST attribute vouchsafed to man, 
Adown the vista of life's gliding years, 
With ever-changing, ever-varying scenes, 
I low much we need thy comforting embrace. 
How often do we in our weakness err 
And lon»' to he forgiven. 

Oh, for a heart 
Without a tinge of hate or bitterness! 
Hut charity for every human soul, 
That charity that suffers long, and still 
Is kind, and faileth not. 

Father divine, 
Help us to offer from our inmost soul 
The fervent prayer, "Forgive as we forgive," 
That we may enter into rest and peace, 
And find this all-embracing charity. 



58 DA R h\X/:\S . I ND DA 1 1 'X 



TO-DAY'S RECORD. 

Another record in the book of life, 

Another page for good or seeming ill. 

What generous act, my soul, what word of thine 

Has blest some stricken one, has dried some tear, 

lias kindled hope in some despairing heart? 

Have kindliness and loving sympathy 

Made some sonl glad or some life brighter grow? 

Hast thou poured balm into some sorrowing breast? 

Hast fed the famished? Then thou 'st rendered well 

Then this day's record is not lost for thee. 

Each eve which no kind action can record. 

No sunbeams scattered, or no good deed done, 

No kind word spoken, or no grief assuaged, — 

No brightness .nilds the page, 't is counted loss. 



IMMORTALITY. 

It has been called delusion. Be it so; 
In this delusion let me live and die. 
When I lay down the mortal, when I cross 
The silent river, let me find and know 
That on the farther shore my very own, 
My own in sympathy ami tenderness, 



NO STING IN DEATH 59 

My own in love and sweetest harmony 
Will give me fondest greeting, where no bars 
Of cold conventionality will mar 
The perfect union of congenial souls. 
Let who will cherish cold agnosticism, 
Which satisfieth not, nor giveth rest. 
(Jive me my dear fond dream of future joy 
When weary spirits lay earth's burdens down. 



NO STING IN DEATH. 

Thoughts on the death of a young friend. 

There is no sting in death. The bitter sting 

Is in this life of conflict and of care. 

Of weariness and sorrow, grief ami pain. 

When loved ones leave our home, and pass beyond 

To, fairer, brighter shares, the sting of death 

Is ours, not theirs. While we with bitter tears 

And tender, fondest memories convey 

The vacant form to its last resting-place, 

The enfranchised soul, from prison-house of clay 

Forever free, goes forth exultant in 

Its new-born joy. 

<) dear ones, cease to mourn; 
Weep not for the sweet spirit who has passed 
Beyond our finite vision; she goes forth 
"To gather lilies" on the plains of heaven. 



60 DARKNESS AND DA ll'.V 



LONGING FOR PEACE. 

How sweet 't would be to dwell where naught 

But kindliness abides, 
Where hate and envy have no place, 

And only love presides! 
T were heavenly bliss itself to dwell 

In such an atmosphere; 
The joy hells ring in every heart 
And paradise is here. 
When every breeze that fans the brow 

Brings happiness and peace, 
Where restful calm pervades the heart 

And discord has surcease, 
Life's ship o'er tranquil waters glides 

And storms and tempests cease. 



THE NEW CENTURY— 1901. 

The grey old century is dead, has flown, 
Has disappeared ad own the ages. 

When 
We stand beside the bier of those we love 
Their lives rise up before us; memory 



LOVE'S FOUNDATION 61 

Recounts their virtues and entombs their faults. 

And so, old century, we would recall 

And cherish fondly every joy, all good 

That thou hast given, and every sorrow count 

As blessing in disguise. 

We '11 hail the glad 
New era, and rejoice in added good 
For all earth's struggling children, added power 
For right and justice, grander freedom for 
The soul of man, triumph of love and truth, 
Which shall uplift and bless humanity. 



LOVE'S FOUNDATION. 

() Love, thou dear but evanescent thing, 

Like some sweet warbler, fleet and swift of wing, 

Or like some structure, beautiful and grand. 

Washed by the ocean, built upon the sand. 

Relentless fate! Had adamantine rock 

Been thy foundation, waves and storms might shock 

And buffet thee in vain. 

Eternal Power ! 
Oh, for omnipotence for one short hour, 
That I might rear to Love in every land, 
Beneath the Arctic's snow and Tropic's sand, 
A structure which no power in earth or hell 
Could overthrow. Loud should the anthem swell 
That Love, once given, is changeless as the spheres, 
Undimmed by time, untouched by flight of vears. 



62 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



MY IDEAL. 

Goal of my hopes, river of heavenly peace. 
Thou placid ocean where all tempests cease, 
Abode where love and perfect trust is found, 
And flowers of sweet content are grouped around, 
Where fear and strife can never come to mar 
The true sonl union; like a distant star 
Thy light illumes my path, liest, longing heart; 
The soul of which thy being is a part 
Sometime shall give thee greeting; joy and peace 
And harmony shall reign, and discord cease. 
Somewhere, life of my life, if staunch and true 
To duty's stern behest, from out heaven's blue 
Thy light shall stream, through all my being roll, 
And satisfy the hunger of the soul. 



GRATITUDE. 

When Nature draws aside the sable veil 
Of night and ushers in a fresh, new day. 
And when, to greet the rosy, radiant morn 
Our eyes unclose, a sense of gratitude 
Fills all the being for the Day-King's gift. 
And when again at dewy eve we gaze 



ALONE 63 

Upon the sky, behold the siuiliiiii stars 
And radiant moon bathing the earth in soft 
And mellow light, the heart thrills, grateful for 
The holy calm which tills the universe. 
We thank thee, Great All-Soul, for day, for night, 
For morning's beams, and evening's shades serene, 
For day's fair gifts, and restful night's repose, 
And all which tends to make our lives complete. 



ALONE. 

Tin: sun has set, and 'neath the shadows gray 

I walk alone; 
The roseate beams which erst illumed my way 

Are scattered, flown ; 
The joyousness that once my being blest 
lias changed to bitterness and sad unrest, 

My path thom-strown. 

But while I walk, a sound comes, soft and low, 

lake voice of prayer; 
Again I almost see the roses blow; 

Their fragrance rare 
Comes hack to me, a whisper seems to say, 
"He patient, child; a light shall cheer thy way 

Sometime, somewhere." 



64 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



STAND FOR THE RIGHT. 

Stand for the right, although you stand alone; 

Be brave and true, though all the world should frown 

And hurl their swift anathemas at your 

Defenseless head; they strike, but cannot harm; 

They only will rebound and make you strong. 

Gird on the armor then, ye sons of men ; 

Firm and undaunted stand 'gainst every wrong; 

Lift up the voice 'gainst habits that debase 

The better nature, habits that degrade 

The soul, and make the man an abject slave. 

Sound the alarm, although the heavens fall; 

Some soul may hear your voice and turn aside, 

Cast off the shackles that have chained him down, 

Kise in the strength of manhood and be free. 



MY DREAMS. 

In waking hours I sometimes sit and dream. 
Dream of the homes beyond this mundane sphere 
Which we are building, building by our deeds 
Of good or ill, making them beautiful 
And fair to look upon, or barren and 
Unlovely. 



THE PRICE OF LIBERTY 65 

If our lives arc pure and true 
And full of noble deeds, we beautify 
And wreathe our spirit home with vines and flowers. 
The friends we loved and prized in other days 
Will be attracted here, where love holds sway, 
Where cold conventionalities come not, 
Or form a barrier to communion sweet. 
Each heart will find its own, and each with each 
Mingle in heavenly peace and harmony. 



THE PRICE OF LIBERTY. 

It is not bought with gold. No precious stones, 

No diamonds rare from far Golconda borne, 

Rubies nor pearls, can purchase liberty. 

Ah, no! 'T is bought by blood, by torturing pain. 

By famine, pestilence, and wretchedness. 

By widows' hitter grief and orphans' tears, 

By heart-strings torn, by blackness of despair 

When ties are sundered fond and dear as life. 

When loved ones lay their lives 'mid shot and shell, 

Amid the Hades of the battle's roar 

On Freedom's altar. This, fair Liberty, 

In every age and land beneath the sun, 

lias been thy price. Millions have fought and bled, 

Have sacrificed their lives, their all for thee. 



Oil DARKNESS AND DAWN 



THE COOK'S LAMENT. 

Three times a (lav, and every livelong day — 
Three hundred sixty-five — 

'T is cook and bake, wash dishes, scrub, and clean, 

All jnst to keep alive. 
Thermometer at ninety — no respite 

From the hot kitchen's flame; 
Stomachs are empty, yearning to be filled. 

And cry out just the same. 
It seems to me if I should make a world, 

(That 's wicked though, they say,) 
I 'd make a race so strong that they could thrive 

On one square meal per day. 
With heart and brain to labor and grow strong 

On jnst one meal per day. 



HARMONY. 

Thou beauteous child of heaven, bl.est Harmony! 

Thy countenance all radiant with the light 

Of the celestial spheres, thy garments are 

The pure habiliments that angels wear 

In their abodes of joy. Thou sweet-voiced dove, 

Soothing the spirit with thy restful song, 



UNFULFILLED 67 

Oh, could I woo thee ever to my breast, 

And feel the dear enchantment and the charm 

Of thy loved presence always in my heart ! 

Sometime my longing being shall be tilled 

To overflowing with thy melodies. 

Which earth's discordant notes may have enhanced 

And made more rich and sweet. Divinest bliss! 

Somewhere for me thy cup of nectar waits. 



UNFULFILLED. 

Tireless, unsparing, unrelenting Fate! 
Prone, crushed, and helpless in his hands I wait. 
He holds me fast as drag the weary years, 
Alike regardless of my prayers and tears; 
What recketh he the breaking, bleeding heart, 
The sting, the anguish of his poisoned dart? 
Oh, rear no massive stone when T am dead. 
Or cosily monument above my head ; 
Let only record of a stainless name 
And noble deeds, although unknown to fame, 
And cherished memory of some kindness done 
Keep <>rass and daisies fresh above my tomb. 
But when at last this aching heart is stilled 
Write only this above me, "Unfulfilled." 



68 I) . I R A'.YA'AX . I ND I). 1 1 1 X 



DEATH BETTER THAN ESTRANGEMENT. 

T is better to bow in the shadow of sadness. 
And wee]) all alone for the spirit that 's free, 

When 1 know that the fond one, my solace and gladness, 
AYas noble and tine and was loyal to me, 

Than to sit by his side and no longer to cherish 
The fondness that lingers with Love's mystic tie; 

To know witli time's changes affection can perish — 
Together, divided — 't were better to die. 

'T is sweeter to feel that our souls were united, 
Though now rent apart by Death's cruel behest, 

Than existence by strife and inharmony blighted; 
When hearts drift asunder the silence is best. 

I know that the heart 'neath the violets sleeping 
Was mine in its fullness to have and to hold ; 

All pure and untarnished was safe in my keeping, 
More sacred than rubies, more precious than gold. 

I know that the love like a bright jewel beaming, 
That dawned on my life with its luminous glow, 

Still guards me by day, and by night in my dreaming 
It lingers, sweet flowers in my pathway to strow. 



A BOUQUET OF RHODODENDRON (>9 



ON RECEIVING A BOUQUET OF RHODODENDRON 
BLOSSOMS, WHICH CAME FROM THE ALLE- 
GHENY MOUNTAINS, JULY i, 1895. 

Beloved Friends: 

The beautiful bouquet 
('nine safe to me; and from good Tressie's hand 
I gratefully received the precious ii'ift; 
And on the glorious beauty of the flowers 
I gazed for the first time, then hied me back 
On wings of memory and stood again 
Upon the mountain home, o'er which I crossed 
When, rolling back the curtain of the years, 
I was a prattling child. 

How kind you were. 
Dear friends, to send it me, and, passing sweet, 
It is to he remembered. 

One pure spray, 
To cheat decay awhile, I took and pressed; 
Another promised to a floral friend, 
After the flowers were gone, to plant and try 
To root a Rhododendron. 

Thanks, dear friends, 
May loving angels guard you both, and keep 
Sweet friendship's blossoms fresh within your hearts. 
And love's dear roses fadeless to the end. 



DARKNESS AND DAWN 



LITTLE BENNIH'S CHRISTMAS. 

"To-morrow is Christmas, mamma, 
And what do you think I done?" 

"Why, I 'm sure I don't know, Bennie; 
I hope nothing wrong, my son." 

"Oh, no, it ain't bad, mamma, 

But, you know, me and Tommy Snow 
Was mad, and didn't play together 

Like schoolboys do, yon know. 

"And T hain't said a word to Tommy 

Since last Fourth of July, 
When we tit about shootin'-< trackers, 

And he hit me in the eye. 

"And, mamma, I <»ot to thinkin' 

That mebbe I was as had 
And as much to blame as Tommy, 

When we both pit so awful mad. 

"And I 've been so sorry for Tommy 

Ever since his mamma died, 
And I told him so this morning, 

And he jnst broke down and cried. 

"And then I said, 'Say, Tommy, 

Suppose we make up to-day, 
And I think we '11 both feel better, 

For to-morrow is Christmas day.'" 



THE MOTHER'S VALENTINE 

"You have acted nobly, Ronnie; 

You have filled my heart with joy; 
You will have a happy Christinas; 

Mamma 's proud of her brave boy." 

When the Christmas bells are ringing 
Quarrels should be all forgot, 

Hearts be. filled with love and kindness, 
I late and discord enter not. 



THE MOTHER'S VALENTINE. 

One day, sixty years or more ago, 

When the landscape, mayhap, was while with snow, 

A little angel came in to dine, 

And a mother called him her Valentine. 

lie captured all hearts, this seraph form, 
And, safely sheltered from wind and storm. 
His radiant face 1 did tin 1 stars outshine, 
The mother's dear cherished Valentine. 

lie tarried with us; God let him stay, 
And the years of childhood sped swift away. 
While the mother's heartstrings did closely twine 
Around her gallant young Valentine. 

Hut change will come to all mundane things, 
And time clips even the angels' wings; 
For manhood came with a dream divine, 
And a maiden called him her Valentine. 



72 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



TELL ME, SWEET ROSE. 

On. tell me, fair queen of the garden bowers, 

Why none of thy sisters can rival thee; 
Why thou art the sweetest of all the flowers, 

All matchless in wonderful symmetry. 
Canst tell why it is that the piercing thorn, 

Like sentinels guarding thy form so fair, 
All along thy verdant stem is borne. 

Forbidding to feast on thy fragrance rare? 

Canst tell me, sweet rose, why the roses fade, 

And their fragrant petals must turn to dust; 
Why all things mundane in earth are laid, 

To vanish away in decay and rust? 
Can you tell me why all that "s fair and sweet 

Must wither and die, like the autumn leaf; 
Why love and sorrow are doomed to meet 

And our dreams of bliss are, alas, so brief? 

Can you tell why friends are so oft untrue, 

And our cherished hopes like delusive dreams? 
"Why our joys melt away like morning dew. 

And our vision of bliss is not what it seems? 
Can you tell me why the desire most dear 

Is never attained all life's journey through, 
And we go to the grave with the goal so near, 

Yet so far away from our longing view? 



BROKEN IDOLS 

Can von tell, sweet rose, is there recompense 

For this vacant, aimless, and joyless strife? 
When beyond the borders of mortal sense 

Will the soul be clothed with a purer life? 
Shall we drink at Love's fountain, deep and pure, 

And find in the chalice no bitterness, 
Feel only the joy that shall, aye, endure, 

The peace that alone can sustain and bless? 



BROKEN IDOLS 

Some hearts grieve sore o'er the shattered dust 
Who have worshiped idols and found them clay, 

And pine for the hopes thus rudely crushed 
When their cherished altars are dashed away. 

But others can bury their grief away, 

Deep under the "stones of forgetful ness," 

Can gather again life's broken threads 
And shed no tears of regret fulness. 

Some souls can smile in the face of Fate, 
Can laugh at his frown and his power defy, 

Accept his gifts, he they small or great, 
And calmly wait, as the years glide by. 

They can rise from the ashes of sorrows past, 
How at other shrines and rear altars new; 

They can pass unheeded the world's rude blast, 
Though life's fair promise be all untrue. 



74 DARKNESS AND DA H'.V 

They can range new fields, put aside their grief, 
Let the dead past slumber to rise no more, 

From bitter mem'ries soon find relief 
"As die the waves on the ocean shore." 

The shallow streamlets soon dry away 
And vanish before the midday sun, 

While the deep, broad rivers still wend their way, 
And on to the boundless ocean run. 



THE OLD LOG SCHOOLHOUvSE. 

(With a mental apology to the spirit of Samuel Woodworth.) 

How oft like a dream of the golden-hued morning 

The visions of childhood rise up to my view, 
And backward I hie me to youth's radiant morning, 

When life was all brightness and skies were all blue. 
The sweetest and dearest of all youthful pleasures, 

With fondness and love I remember them still, 
Came to my young life when I carried my treasures — 

My books — to the schoolhouse on top of the hill — 
The dear old log schoolhouse, the time-honored schoolhouse, 

The schoolhouse that stood on the top of the hill. 

1 loved the old schoolhouse, though woodsy and homely, 

With long, high-backed desks standing back 'gainst the wall ; 

With little high windows to let in the sunlight, 
And long, narrow benches with no backs at all. 



7 HE OLD LOG SCHOOL HO USE 

The tall, spreading trees which were scattered around it, 
Their tops stretching skyward, — I gaze on them still, — 

And many the pleasures we gleaned from the streamlet, 
The streamlet that ran by the foot of the hill — 

The beautiful streamlet, the clear, limpid streamlet, 
The streamlet that ran by the foot of the hill. 

When lessons were ended, and lunch we had taken, 

"We 'd play ba.se and blackmail, and have rarest fun, 
Or gather in groups and tell stories and riddles, 

And swift flew the moments till school hours begun. 
Blest years of my childhood ! halcyon school days ! 

Though long years have flown, how I cherish you still! 
The fondest and sweetest of memory's pleasures 

(Ting round the old schoolliouse on top of the hill — 
The dear old log schoolhonse, the time-honored schoolhouse, 

The schoolhouse that stood on the top of the hill. 

The old pig-pen tree,* how we loved to explore it, 

And wonder how long since its life first begun ; 
How long since its branches first swayed in the breezes 

And lifted their heads to the life-giving sun. 
Though life, has been checkered by many a sorrow, 

Fond mem'ry turns back to the old places still. 
Though gone, the old landmarks, I fondly remember 

The dear old log schoolhouse on top of the lull — 
The time-honored schoolhouse, the dear old log schoolhouse, 

The schoolhouse that stood on the top of the hill. 

The old spelling-matches, oh, how we enjoyed them ! 
'T was Anna and David, and Mary and John 

*An immense hollow tree in which pig8 slept. 



76 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Were always first chosen; we vied with each other, 

And great was the generous rivalry shown. 
Our spelling quartet has been scattered and broken. 

And one has passed on, but we think of him still ; 
We greet him no longer — his form lies enshrouded 

Far, far from the schoolhouse on top of the hill — 
The dear old log schoolhouse, the time-honored schoolhouse, 

The schoolhouse that stood on the top of the hill. 

My teachers in mein'ry all rise up before me; 

1 look in their faces, their voices I hear; 
Their kind commendations when lessons were perfect,. 

Their generous praise which to each was so dear. 
They all have passed on, and their mem'ry I cherish ; 

The old house is gone, but I gaze on it still ; 
Like all mundane things it was destined to perish, 

The dear old log schoolhouse on top of the hill — 
The time honored schoolhouse 1 , the dear old log schoolhouse 

That stood all alone on the top of the hill. 



117/5' SHOULD I CARE? 



WHY SHOULD I CARE? 

Why should I care for the world's praise or blame? 

Why garner up its scorn or its applause, 

Its boasted fame, the censure that may fall 

From its "cold, death-doomed lips" upon my head? 

By my own actions I must stand or fall; 

If Conscience lend me her approving smile, 

If at the righteous bar I stand approved 

Of this true monitor, this (Jod within, 

If I can lay my hand upon my heart 

And feel no pang within mo of remorse, 

What reck I of the hollow world's renown? 

The giddy, careless throng which idly roam 

With aimless footsteps 'long the crowded streets, 

Who, without thought or purpose, aim to chase 

Away the weary moments, or, perhaps, 

Seeking some idle tale, those who prefer 

(Jossip to thought or perfidy to truth. 

Give me the kindly sympathy of those 
Whose spirits walk with me in my pursuits, 
Who understand me, and whose hearts are true, 
.Find pleasure where I find it and enjoy 
What I enjoy, — this is the highest bliss; 
Where soul meets soul in sweet companionship, 
Who love me for myself, my inner self. 
And know that I am loval to the end. 



DARKNESS AND J) A WW 



FROM LITTLE TO GREATER. 

Little words of anger, 

Little deeds of strife 
Wound and grieve the spirit, 

Mar the peace of life. 

Little moments squandered 

Near the haunts of sin 
Lure the youthful footsteps 
Soon to enter in. 

Little words of falsehood, 

From the lips of youth, 
Tell of manhood's exit 

From the paths of truth. 

Boys who rob the bird's-nest, 
Torture helpless things, 

Sow the thorn and thistle, 
Bitter harvest brings. 

Little acts of meanness, 

Shown in childhood's prime, 

Mark ignoble manhood 
In the coming time. 



A PRA TEE 79 



A PRAYER. 

Lead me gently, Love Divine, 

Through this maze of mortal strife; 

Let thy brightness round me shine, 
Breathe in me thy perfect life. 

Selfishness and pride remove, 

Drive impatience from my heart; 

Fill me with forgiving love, 

More of good and truth impart. 

Love Divine, oh, let me know- 
That the everlasting arms, 

Where earth's dark, dee]) waters flow, 
Hold me safe from all alarms. 

When my spirit cries for bread, 

And I only find a stone, 
When in thorny paths 1 tread, 

Let me say, "Thy will be done"; 

Know that every seeming ill 
Worketh in the end for good ; 

Love Divine, my spirit fill, 

Feed me with thy heavenly food. 

Infinite, Eternal Power! 

Source of Being! Fount of Life! 
Lead and guide me every hour, 

Through this maze of mortal strife. 



80 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



THE CHALICE OF FATE. 

Beside a flowing fountain, pure and sweet, 
A spring which cool perennial freshness brings 
From which to quench the thirst ; whose waters cheer 
And make the spirit joyous, and new life 
Infuse; perchance the goblet waits — 't is filled 
To overflowing. With each draught conies peace 
And restful thoughts, and joy and sweet content, 
And life itself is happiness and heaven. 

We look again upon the selfsame earth 
Fanned by the same cool breezes, where the all- 
Beholding sun sheds his life-giving beams, 
And the same shining, starry canopy 
Whose thousand eyes upon night's sable shroud 
Look down, serene and kind; but as we gaze 
It brings to view only a muddy pool, 
Only an arid void, a desert waste 
Without a green oasis or sweet spring, 
And naught to satisfy the soul's deep thirst. 

Unsparing Fate! Oh, wherefore is it thus? 
Hast thou no pity in thy stony breast 
For thy lorn children? no endearing word, 
No kindly sympathy for weary ones? 
No food for the dee]) hunger of the soul? 
Why givest not to all refreshing shades, 



LOOK BEYOND 81 

And cool retreats, and pure, sweet waters? Why? 
We cry, rebellious from the heart's deep well ; 
And from the soul's lone depths of solitude 
Somewhere 1 the answer cometh, "All is best ; 
All souls must taste sometime the hitter dregs, 
Even from draughts of joy; each beauteous rose, 
However sweet and fair, hath thorns for its 
Protection, perfection also, which makes 
Its fragrance rarer." 

All must somewhere quaff 
Life's bitter waters. The eternal plan 
Must be fulfilled, and somehow, somewhere, all 
Shall realize the purpose of each grief, 
And know it compasseth the final good. 



LOOK BEYOND. 

Pilgrim on life's toilsome road, 

Look beyond ; 
Bearing many a weary load, 

Look beyond. 
As thy day thy strength shall be, 
Somewhere thou shalt know and see 
Good in all that comes to thee, 

Look beyond. 

Though thy path be dark and lone, 
Look beyond. 



DARKNESS AND DA WN 

Though thy bread be but a stone, 

Look beyond. 
Though the shadows round thee fall, 
Cover thee like sonic dark pall, 
Brightness shineth over all, 

Look beyond. 

In affliction's darkest hour, 

Look beyond. 
When the clouds of sorrow lower, 

Look beyond. 
Light will break and clouds be riven. 
And to those who 've bravely striven 
Strength to conquer will be given, 

Look beyond. 



SOMETHING TO LOVE. 

Something to love, if it 's only a kitten, 
Something to fondle, to pet and caress. 

Something which speaks in a language unwritten, 
Something to solace my heart's loneliness. 

Deai- little friend, always true and confiding, 
Hearts men call human are false and untrue; 

(live me a love that is faithful, abiding. 
E'en if it comes, kitty, only from you. 



OLD AGE 83 

Each human soul is for sympathy yearning; 

Up from each bosom some deep longing wells; 
Every lone life to some other is turning; 

Barren the heart which in solitude dwells. 



OLD AGE. 

T is said that age means ripeness; verily, 
It also means decay, and feebleness; 
It means decrepitude, loss of mentality, 
And all that this implies. 

A writer says, 
"Old age is beautiful." I fail to see 
The beautiful in age; beauty belongs 
And grace to youth's fair morn and sunny skies. 
Growing old gracefully is "all in hooks." 
I think me of a poet who writes thus, 
(One who is gifted, one whose life has been 
Less storm than sunshine) : "It is better far 
To pass away in youth or manhood's prime 
Than bide for the infirmities of age." 
It seemeth thus to me; but Nature speaks 
In different language, lengthens out life's span 
To fourscore years, even fourscore and ten. 
Her mandates for her children must be best, 
Must be for some great purpose unperceived 
By mortal ken, — somewhere, we Tl understand. 
Somehow these mysteries will all be solved ; 
In some fair morn, with vision nnobsenred, 
And soul sense quickened, all will be made plain. 



84 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



THE NEW WOMAN. 

She will dress for health and comfort, 

And with taste and neatness, too; 
She '11 have pockets in her outfit, 

And know where to find them, too; 
She will relegate the corset 

To an everlasting rest; 
By her freedom from its thralldom 

Future ages will be hi est. 

If the bloomer is conducive 

To her health, and comfort, too, 
She will wear it ; 't will not make her 

Less a woman, pure or true; 
Freedom, physical and mental, 

She '11 aspire to and attain, 
For the skies e'en now grow brighter, 

And we hail a purer reign. 

She '11 be equal with her brothers; 

She will vote, too; time is near 
When her face at polling places 

Will not cause the ribald jeer 
By the males who seek to crush her, 

As it has in days agone, 
For the night is swift receding 

And we soon shall view the dawn. 



IN MEMORIAM—E. S. VAX G. 85 

Man-made laws she will remodel, 

Seek to make them wise and just, 
And her shrewder, keener instinct 

Will remove the moth and rust. 
Justice shall to all he measured; 

In the era yet to he 
Womanhood shall hail the dawning, 

Her emancipation see. 



IN MEMORIAM— E. S. VAN. G. 

MOUUN not lor her who 's passed out from tin 1 mortal, 
Earth's sorrows ended and its anguish o'er; 

Her spirit free lias passed beyond death's portal, 
Enfranchised stands on the eternal shore. 

Think- not of her as in the cold grave sleeping; 

Her presence lingers with the loved ones dear; 
She feels your sorrow, looks upon your weeping, 

And comes with love your fainting hearts to cheer. 

'T is hut the vacant casket that has left us; 

The spirit clothed with purer life doth shine; 
Though death has of the once loved form bereft us, 

AYe bring our homage to a fairer shrine. 

The little ones she loved with tender yearning, 
And all the dear ones that have been her care, 



86 DA RKNJSS8 A X/> DA WN 

To each the mother's heart is fondly turning, 
And all her loving, pure affection share. 

"Whatever is, is best." We cannot measure 
By mortal vision the Eternal plan ; 

We can hut yield to earth our cherished treasure, 
And know thai laws divine are best for man. 

Death is but change. Upon this night of sorrow, 
With all its grief and its consuming care, 

Shall dawn a beautiful and radiant morrow, 

Which every child of earth sometime, somewhere 

With joy shall hail ; shall cast off every fetter, 
Even though eons this fulfillment wait, 

Rise upward into purer life and better, 

And stand unstained within the eternal gate. 



HE WHO DOES THE BEST HE CAN 87 



HE WHO DOES THE BEST HE CAN. 

The bells may herald forth the name 

Of the successful man, 
But let me sound the praise of him 

Who docs the best lie can; 
For he who turns to West account 

The jjifts that nature gave, 
Though vanquished in the race of life, 

1 1 is heart is true and brave. 

The hero who in battle falls, 

Struck by a traitor's blow. 
Who for the right yields up his breath 

With face toward the foe, 
Deserves a meed of praise as great 

As the victorious man. 
Because in face of death lie docs 

The very best he can. 

On whom fair nature has bestowed 

Rare ijifts of mind and heart 
Can rise with ease and proudly stand 

Within the world's great mart; 
But honor to the earnest soul, 

Not foremost in the van, 
Who with unfaltering purpose does 

The very best he can. 



88 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



AN ACT OF KINDNESS 

"You 'vio dropped your handkerchief, lady," 

A stranger said to me, 
As he passed me by in the market, 

Where I '<1 diopped it carelessly; 
And lie kindly handed it to me, 

And sped him along his way, 
Leaving a pleasant memory 

Deep down in my heart to stay. 

'T was a little thing, but it touched me, 

And I thought, as I passed along, 
We could all do many kind actions, 

As Ave move in life's busy throng, 
Which might make some lone 1 , one happy, 

Might brighten some sad one's life 
In its passage adown time's hillside, 

Amid its turmoil and strife. 

Words and deeds of kindly import, 

As we pass in the toiling mart, 
Scatter roses along our pathway, 

(Jive comfort to many a heart. 
Let us scud some beautiful sunbeam, 

Some cheering and brightening ray, 
Which may chase away gloomy shadows, 

"We can pass but once this way." 



THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH OF A DEAR FRIEND 89 



THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH OF 
A DEAR FRIEND. 

Farewell, my cherished friend. The end has come; 

The dread destroyer of all earthly hopes, 

Who pauseth not in his all-conquering march 

And heedeth not that hearts are crushed and homes 

Made desolate, hath entered thine abode, 

And now the vacant form lies cold and still, 

All heedless of our blinding tears that fall, 

In dreamless slumber in that silent home' — 

The city of the dead. 

() voiceless grave, 
How could we stand and gaze into thy cold, 
Dark depths and see thy chilling bosom hide 
Forever from our sight the precious forms 
Of those so dear to memory and love, 
Were there no bright and shining shore beyond 
Death's turbid river, no assurance sweet 
Of blest reunion when the boatman pale 
Shall bring the final summons? 



!»(> DARKNESS AND DAWN 



UNDER THE PLUM TREES. 

Under the plum-trees, — a gallant youth 
And a maiden fair, in sweet September, 

Plucking and eating tlie luscious fruit, 
Is a far-off picture I still remember. 

For Cupid was there, and his arrow sped 
And entered the hearts of man and maiden. 

While the grass grew softer beneath their feet, 

And the autumn breeze seemed with sweetness laden. 

Under the plum-trees, — how strangely bright 
'Phe; whole world grew, all the senses thrilling, 

And love's sweet dream, with a nameless joy 
And a new delight, all the soul is filling. 

The ties of home, which were erst so strong, 
Are snapped in twain, they can hold no longer; 

All else is chaff by the breezes driven, 

The new cords bind, and naught else is stronger. 

() wonderful power of a new-born love! 

How its vastness rives all the heart asunder; 
More potent than death, than life more dear, 

It holds us spellbound in awe and wonder. 



The strength supreme of its magic charm 
Will gild a cottage, though e'er so lowly, 

Will deck with jewels all rich and rare, 
Make home a palace all sweet and holy; 



A PEA YEP FOR PATIENCE 91 

Will make the hearthstone enchanted ground 

In blest contentment and peace abounding, 
The happy faces with radiance beam, 

And songs of joy in each heart resounding. 

Though many years since that day have flown, 
The fires of love are still warm and glowing; 

Though joy and sorrow life's cup has filled, 
The same pare fount is serenely flowing. 

Love! thou beautiful, precious gem, 

Thou dearest boon unto mortals given. 
Shine on and brighten life's shadowy way, 

A beacon light to the port of heaven. 



A PRAYER FOR PATIENCE. 

Angel of Patience, come and walk with me, 
And cheer my heart along life's lonely way. 

Be thou ray strength; oh, let me lean on thee. 
By thy dear presence turn my night to day. 

Be strength in weakness, in my sorrow peace, 

And while my paths through deep, dark shadows lie, 

Oli, teach me to endure till comes release, 
Till patient trust sees sunbeams in the sky. 

Oh, why this ceaseless, nameless, vague unrest? 
This bitter yearning, this incessant strife, 



92 DARKNESS AND DA WN 

Like a caged, bird who beats her weary breast 
And sorely pines for freedom's air and life? 

This voiceless longing all unsatisfied, 
This inward vacancy, this aching void; 

Earth's dearest joy is to my soul denied, 

"The strands that moor my heart to life" destroyed. 

Oh, if life's bitter lessons I must learn, 

Give me a heart courageous, brave, and strong, 

To wait with patient trust the tidal turn 

When right at last shall triumph over wrong. 



A MAIDEN'S SORROW. 

In life's bright May-day, when the heart is young, 
A maiden sweet and fair was wooed and won. 

Earth was all smiles, the love-birds sweetly sung 
When rang the marriage-bells, — the deed is done. 

Wedded, not mated — why, alas! oh, why 
Are hearts attracted but to drift apart? 

Why do love's fragrant roses fade and die 

Leaving but thorns to tear the bleeding heart? 

The maiden learned too soon, alas, too late, 
That he, the lover who had gained her plight. 

Had other loves — oh, sad and cruel fate! — 
Whom he wooed oft amid the shades of night. 



A MAIDEN'S SORROW 93 

One was the wine-cup, the full flowing bowl, 

• With boon companions and their low delight; 
The faithful wife was left with tortured soul 
To pass alone the weary hours of night. 

The haunts of dissipation held for him 

Pleasures far greater than the dear home nest; 

His baser soul with moral senses dim 
In nightly revelry alone found rest. 

The fond wife's tears and prayers availed her naught; 

Her earnest pleadings and protests were vain ; 
To win him back from vice she vainly sought, 

Home had no charms, he heeded not her pain. 

Then came a little one the home to bless ; 

The wife rejoiced, for this she thought would be 
Something to give the father happiness 

At his own fireside, from the spoiler free. 

Her hope was vain. He tarried for a while 

To look upon his sleeping infant's face, 
But childhood's innocence could not beguile 

Or lure him from the old familiar place. 



Years came and passed, and sons and daughters stood 
Around the festal board — sons far below 

The mother's high ideal, not pure and good 

With high resolves, but instincts coarse and low. 

The daughters, too, not gentle and refined, 

But grew up rude and boisterous, like their sire, 



94 DAR KNESS AND 1>A\\ X 

Cared not for higher culture of the mind, 
But sensual pleasures were the soul's desire. 

To her for whom life's blossoms seemed so fair 
Came only disappointment and regret; 

For long ago, weighed down by grief and care, 
I lor sun of happiness on earth had sot. 



W 



Vhy is this so? Why do not souls repel 
Who cannot be harmonious? Why should love 

"here heaven should reign supreme make home a hell, 
Home, which should antedate the home above? 

"Why could it not endure" — love's sweet young dream? 

But dreams, alas, at morning take their flight! 
Stern the decree, "Things are not what they seem," 

And visions flee before the dawning light, 

I ask an answer of unsparing Fate; 

He hearkens not. The unsolved mystery 

Confronts the world; mankind can only wait 
The deep revealments of life's hidden sea. 

woman ! by the saered love you bear 
To your unborn, if marriage prove a thrall, 
A galling chain, arise, cast off the yoke 
And walk alone. Let not your errors curse 
And fetter for all time your progeny; 
'T is better far to walk in separate paths, 
Even though bitter memories haunt the way, 
Than drag unwelcome offspring down to dole 
And degradation. 



THANK GOD FOR NIGHT AND REST 95 

What more harrowing grief 

Conies to the life of mothers who possess 

A lofty, pure ideal, than to know 

That these, their very own, round whom their souls 

In tender love entwine, whom they would give 

All their heart's blood to save, who might have been 

High souled and noble, grovel in the dust, 

And care for naught but base and sensual things? 

Oh, grief the saddest 'neath the pitying stars 
And all beholding sky! They might have proved 
The mother's joy, the mother's hope and pride, 
But there is no redress, and she must bear 
This burden to the end, and sink uncrowned, 
Save with dead hopes, to her last resting-place. 



THANK GOD FOR NIGHT AND REST. 

Sweet restful night again returns, 

Her curtains round us close; 
The weary seek their peaceful couch 

And sink to sweet repose. 
How welcome to the toiling ones, 

Worn with the day's long quest; 
The wayworn pilgrim sinks to sleep — 

Thank God for night and rest. 

When worn by time's corroding cares. 
Through day's turmoil and strife, 



96 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

When heart and brain sink down and tire 

Amid the ills of life, 
How grateful falls the sable shroud 

( >'<t hearts with care oppressed ; 
The stars look down with kindly eyes — 

Thank God for night and rest. 

The day-king sinks behind the hills 

And veils his fiery face; 
The silvery moon serenely smiles 

With sweet and gentle grace. 
When good-night kisses on my lips 

By dear ones all arc pressed, 
I yield to sleep's refreshing charms, 

Thank God for night and rest. 

REFRAIN. 

Floating away to dreamland 

Under night's sheltering wing. 
Gathering memory treasures, 

New in the heart to spring; 
Burdens and cares forgotten, 

Hushed is the day's unrest, 
Safe on her quiet bosom, 

Thankful for night and rest. 



OUIi BUDGET 07 



OUR BUDGET. 

To the Entre Nous Club. 

A budget, what is it? A budget may be 

A tangible thing we can all plainly see; 

Can be made up of dry-goods, or something to eat, 

A turkey for dinner, or shoes for your feet. 

A budget of nonsense, a budget of news, 
An intangible substance whatever you choose; 
A budget of folly, a. budget of fun, 
Or any material under the sun. 

But ours is a budget of knowledge profound, 
With wit and witli wisdom its pages abound; 
Instruction we seek and amusement as well, 
1-5 ut it 's all ''Entre Nous," and of course we can't tell. 

While speaking of budgets, a memory's gleam 

Of the famed World's Fair city* comes back like a dream. 

Which long years ago, like a funeral pyre, 

Was laid waste and despoiled by the archdemon Fire. 

Some ludicrous incidents, so I have learned, 
Might serve to enliven wherever you turned; 
There was one, quite amusing, which here I '11 relate. 
Which I heard from a friend in the old Prairie State. 

'T was a woman half-crazed by the sight of the fire, 
As it swept down the streets in its terrible ire; 

*Chicago. 

7 



98 DABKNESS AND DAWN 

She grasped in her fright the first object she found, 
And flew in swift haste from the flame-stricken ground. 

She ran to a relative's, six miles or more, 

And, gasping for breath, she rushed in at the door; 

"I 've saved something," she cried, "be it little or great"; 

'T was the rag-hag, the budget she 'd snatched from its fate. 



LOVE'S SURCEASE. 

() holiest passion of the human soul! 
() life in death while countless eons roll! 
O joy supreme! () eup of nectared bliss! 
What tongue can tell the rapture of thy kiss? 
Essence divine! () ecstasy untold! 
What hidden mysteries thy depths unfold. 
Thy shafts alike, as round each season rolls, 
Strike inharmonious, uncongenial souls, 
Who feast upon thy sweetness for a day 
Then drift apart — enact the same old play 
Which all adown the vista of the years 
Has deluged earth with bitterness and tears. 
The pangs of grief that pierce the heart at last, 
Make poignant e'en the memory of the past, 
And love, the dearest boon that Nature gave, 
With never resurrection, finds a "rave. 



TO A GRADUATING CLASS 99 



TO A GRADUATING CLASS. 

Out of the harbor you pass to-night, 
Kindly refuge from storm and tide; 

Out from the shelter of youthful days 
Into life's ocean all dee]) and wide. 

Out of the harbor! serene and fair, 
Pleasures of youth, all pure and sweet, 

Placid waters and balmy air 

Left behind you — life's waves to meet. 

Out of the harbor! to say farewell, 

Leaving classmates and teachers kind, 

Turning aside from youth's primrose path, 
Fondest friendships are left behind. 

(Ifaver problems confront you now; 

Out in the world with its care and strife 
Heroes are wanted, all staunch and true, 

On the "reat battle-field of life. 



.-' 



Not alone on the tented field 

Heroes are called for, all brave and strong, 
Dauntless to stand in defense of right, 

Brave to denounce and crush the wrong. 

True hearts are wanted to do and dare; 
Duty calls throughout all the land ; 



L.uJG. 



100 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Truth is lifting- her hands for aid, 
Compassed by error on every hand. 

Armed with courage which falters not, 
Valiant soldiers, who will not quail, 

Stand in defense of the hearth and home 
'Gainst the demons who dare assail. 

Go forth with noble and firm resolve, 
Labor waits for your bands to do; 

High endeavor its meed will bring, 
Sure reward to the brave and true. 



NIPPED IN THE BUD. 

Ottb home seems all drear and deserted 

And vacant to-day; 
A shadow lias suddenly hidden 

The sunlight away. 
The dear smiling face of our darling 

Now greets us no more; 
The death angel's summons was waiting 

And wafted her o'er. 

The pure bud, so sweetly unfolding 

In beauty and grace, 
Was plucked by the hands of the angels, 

And given a place 



XIPPED IN THE BUD lol 

To bloom in the gardens Elysian, 

Where frosts cannot conic, 
Where death and where parting conies never 

To darken the home. 

Oli, blest is the bud that was severed 

To open beyond, 
Though cherished by home's sweet affections, 

Endearing and fond. 
Though empty that place in the household, 

And vacant the chair, 
Our loved one will light the dark pathway 

And beckon ns there. 

Earth's cares and turmoils cannot harm her 

Or cloud her young life, 
All free from life's sorrow and anguish 

And harrassing strife. 
Not lost; though the form that we cherished 

Is hid from our sight, 
A presence angelic still lingers, 

All radiant with light. 



102 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



HAVE BEEN. 

" 'T is hotter to have loved and lost, 
Than never to have loved at all." 

— Ten Hi/sun. 

'T is bcllcr that the wild-birds sing 

And fill the wood with music sweet, 
E'en if, while borne on joyous wing, 

The huntsman lays them at his feet 
They have been happy; they have trilled 

Their notes of joy and melody; 
Their vacant places will be filled 

By many warblers yet to be. 

T is belter that the roses blow 

And scatter fragrance on the air, 
Although the winter frost and snow 

Will hide their forms, all sweet and fair, 
They have been beautiful, and all 

With rarest lines have decked the bowers, 
And memory will still recall 

Sweet summer with its wealth of flowers. 

Fond mother, though thy soldier boy 
Who yields his life on foreign shore, 

And once thy solace, hope, and joy, 
Comes to thy loving arms no more, 

His life has blest thee; let this thought 
(Jive strength to bear the bitter pain; 



HAVE BEEN 103 

When all life's changes have been wrought 
Thy heart shall find its own again. 

'T is best for thee, O lonely heart ! 

That thou hast tasted love's fond bliss, 
E'en though the years have rent apart 

The bond sealed by affection's kiss; 
E'en though thy pathway with debris 

Of wrecked and shattered dreams be strown, 
And Fate's stern hand leaves but to thee 

The memory of the dove that 's flown. 

This narrow span of mortal life, 

This wavelet on the shore of time, 
This crucible of pain and strife 

Brings fitness for the life sublime, 
Where every soul its own shall know, 

Blending in one harmonious whole, 
Where peace like placid rivers flow 

And guerdon comes for all life's dole. 



104 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



"BURY THE THORNS" 

"Cherish life's roses, and bury the thorns." — L. 7?. J'. 

Yes, sister, the "thorns" I would gladly bury, 
If some one would kindly their tombs prepare; 

But they fall so fast that the weary labor 

Wears heart and brain out with toil and care. 

"Bury the thorns?" my God! how gladly 

Would I entomb them if power were mine; 
But day by day I find new ones scattered 
Along my pathway, — but why repine? 

Fate has ordained and I still must press them, 
Bleeding and sore though my feet may be; 

I find no escape, no restful haven; 
I can but endure till the end I see. 

Somewhere, perhaps, I may find the "roses," 
Hid from my eyes by relentless Fate ; 

Sometime their sweetness may greet my senses; 
Heaven make me patient and strong to wait. 

Somewhere the rose without thorns is blooming, 
Somewhere Love's garland will not be riven; 

Sometime will guerdon of peace be granted, 
Sunshine and joy for life's darkness given. 

There is a. shore where no roses wither, 

Where the thorns come not to pierce the breast ; 



"KIND HEARTS ARE MORE THAN CORONETS'" 105 

After the rain conies the cheering sunlight, 
After the tempest repovse and rest. 

() thornless roses! <> love undying! 

friendship constant! fadeless flowers! 
Though only in visions and dreams I meet you, 

1 pine for your restful and tranquil bowers. 

Oh, bear me over life's boisterous ocean ! 

I long your sylvan retreats to roam; 
1 yearn with a ceaseless, deathless yearning 

To greet you all in my brighter home. 



"KIND HEARTS ARE MORE THAN CORONETS." 

— Tennyson 

Sometimes when the heart is weary. 
When the sky is dark and dreary. 
Heaven in tender loving kindness 

Sends some angel in disguise; 
Sends a tender, earnest woman, 
Too unselfish to be human, 
Sends her forth to scatter sunbeams. 

Bid new stars of hope arise. 

Fragrant flowers she scatters round us, 
Snaps the chain that erst had bound us, 
Lifting up the heavy burden 

That had, like some rayless night, 



106 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Like a dark pall settled o'er us, 
Opened out new paths before us, 
Placed o'er head Hope's shining rainbow, 
Making all the being bright. 

If upon life's desert dreary, 
All the soul athirst and weary, 
Never came a green oasis 

With its verdure fresh and sweet, 
Surely, Ave should faint and perish; 
But the hope we still may cherish 
That the burden may be lifted 

E'er its weight shall crush our feet. 



NEW YEAR'S THOUGHTS. 

One year nearer the tranquil shore, 

Nearer the harbor where tempests cease, 

Where the dark waters shall dash no more, 
Nearer the port of eternal peace. 

Nearer the bound of earth's griefs and fears, 
Where love's fountains eternal flow, 

Nearer the close of life's sighs and tears, 
Where flowers fadeless, undying blow. 

One year nearer the longed for goal, 
Home of harmony, love, and rest, 

Cherished hope of my longing soul, 
Evergreen fields of my spirit's quest. 



HEART LONGINGS 107 

Nearer the realm where affection dwells, 
Where the heart's idols can ne'er deceive. 

Where tuneful melody endless swells, 
No tones of bitterness wound and grieve. 

Nearer the shore where no dark eclipse 

Comes to our friendships, all true and pure; 

Never a chill comes to love's fond lips, 
But warm and changeless for aye endure. 

One year nearer — he glad, my soul, 

(ilad that the journey still shorter grows; 

Nearer I come to the restful goal 
Where joy's river eternal flows. 



HEART LONGINGS. 

Oh, for a loyal and congenial friend, 
- Constant and kind and true, 
To scatter sunbeams o'er my darkened life, 
And form my soul anew. 

Whose loving sympathy, like healing balm, 

My wounded spirit fills, 
Whose tenderness and peace into my heart 

Like evening dew distills. 

A friend in whom I safely can confide 

My all of joy or grief; 
Can feel the union of a kindred soul, 

And find a sweet relief. 



108 DAL'KNESS AND DA \VS 



DEATH. 

When we lay the forms of our loved to rest, 
Thrilling no longer with sweet warm breath, 

Pallid and cold as the pulseless clay, 
Down in the darkness, — Ave call it death. 

We call it death, but 't is only change; 

"T is only the garment the spirit wore; 
T is the vacant casket love decks with flowers, 

The gem has passed to a fairer shore. 

We cling to the form which was once so dear, 
Empty and chill as the dust we tread, 

Gone from earth's sorrow and care and grief, 
All unheeding the tears we shed. 

Now all enfranchised the spirit stands, 
Now all unfettered by mold of clay, 

Free from earth's darkness and weary pain 
On the fair shore of eternal day. 

When we have breasted a few more storms, 
Finished this conflict of care and strife, 

When the death-angel shall call us hence 
Into a new and immortal life, 

Then we shall greet all the loved and lost, 
Those who have left us in grief and tears; 

Love and friendship again renew, 

Through the expanse of eternal years. 



KIND WISHES FOE A YOUNG MINISTER 109 



KIND WISHES FOR A YOUNG MINISTER. 

Inscribed t<> . 

Hark ! the bugle call is sounding, 

And the battle-field of life 
Lies around and all about us, 

And each one must face the strife. 
There 's a call for valiant soldiers, 

Strong and dauntless, brave and true, 
Souls whose courage never falters 

Where there 's earnest work to do. 

Life has meanings deep and thrilling 

That to every soul belong, 
Given for earnest, soulful labor, 

Conquests for the brave and strong. 
Those who with a noble purpose 

Stand for truth, though men deride, 
Bear aloft her glorious banner, 

Undismayed by storm and tide. 

Conquests not of thrones and kingdoms, 

Not of city or of state, 
Not of hall or palace royal, 

Not dominions small or great, 
But a conqueror of evil, 

Vice, depravity, and sin ; 
May your angel mother guard you, 

Keep your spirit pure within, 



110 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

That yon come not with the vanquished 

On the struggling field of life, 
Not with those who fly in conflict 

Or who faint amid the strife, 
But conic clothed with triumph's garments, 

Every toe beneath your feet, 
Ready to lay down your armor 

And the victor's guerdon meet. 

May your mind enlarge and broaden 

And your vision clearer grow ; 
May you scale the heights of knowledge, 

Rise above the vales below ; 
Rise in purity and goodness, 

Grow in spirit grand and strong, 
Soar above the gross and earthy, 

Make no compromise with wrong. 

When you seek to pluck life's roses, 

You will feel the stinging smart 
Of the piercing thorns around them, 

Thorns are of this life a part; 
"Thorns come not for the protection 

But perfection of the flower"; 
So life's bitter, fiery trials 

Give the soul new strength and power. 

When this mortal strife is ended 
And we stand untranimeled, free, 

On the battlements immortal, 
Then unveiled our eves shall see 



CANST THOU NOT WAIT.' Ill 



Why the thorns bestrew life's pathway, 
Why life's sweets are mixed with «all ; 

In that land of glorious conquest 
We shall understand it all. 



CANST THOU NOT WAIT? 

Ride thee in patience while thy years drag on, 
The weary years chained to the car of Fate; 
Eternity awaits thee, () my soul; 
Th' eternal purpose thou must needs fulfill, 
Though pain and bitterness thy portion be, 
A purpose to thy finite sight which seems 
Fraught with deep mysteries. 

Ilolden thine eyes 
To read the meaning of this broken life, 
This dee]) heart yearning, this incessant wail 
For soul companionship, this empty void 
Which, like some starving, solitary bird, 
Yearns to be fed ; but longing brings no food. 
Discord may lead to harmony divine; 
"The mills of God grind slow," canst thou not wait? 
This meager span is but a grain of sand 
Cast in eternity's all shoreless sea, 
One drop of water in the boundless deep. 
When on the mountains of eternity 
Enfranchised thou shall stand, then, oh, my heart, 
Bow short will all these years of torture seem ; 
The nulls of God grind sure, caust thou not wait? 



112 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



THE TRAMP. 

"Will you give me sonic broad, kind lady? 

I have never done this before." 
"Why, surely, my boy," she answered, 

"Go around to the kitchen door." 

"I had a good place in the city, 

But I 'in out of work again; 
And because I have no money, 

They have put me off the train." 

"But what did you do with your money, 
My friend, when you had employ? 

Did you spend it all in carousing, 
Like many another boy?" 

"That 's just what I did, good lady, 

Or I wouldn't be here to-day, 
Cast out on the world, a beggar 

Without food or a place to stay. 

"I had a good time on my money, 
And my shopmates did so, too, 

Not dreaming hard times were coming 
When we 'd all have nothing to do." 

"Well, I hope this will be a warning, 
And when next you obtain employ, 



THE Ui AMP 

You will lay by part of your earnings 
"For a time of need, my boy. 

"Not married, young man? Glad to hear it, 
For now though you love to roam, 

Sometime you '11 grow weary of roving 
And will long for a quiet home ; 

"And if ever you hope to possess it, 
You must aim in your youthful prime 

To lay up part of your earnings 
For use at some future time." 

"Your advice is good, kind lady, 

And I have "ft mind to try, 
The next time I get employment, 

To lay some money by. 

"It will be hard work, I imagine, 

For I 've always spent it all, 
Never thinking hard times would catch me 

Without any money at all. 

"And if I succeed in my efforts, 

I shall owe my resolve to try 
To the kind advice you gave me, 

When they called me a tramp — good-by." 



114 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



A LOVER'S SOLILOQUY. 

If I only knew that those speaking eyes, 

That sparkle and beam for me, 
Would always gleam with love's radiant light 

While sailing life's stormy sea; 
If I knew that this heart, so warm and true, 

Given me by some kindly fate, 
Whose tenderness doth my being bless, 

Was really my soul's true mate. 

If I only knew that no serpent lurked, 

All hidden, among the flowers, 
No upas would spring with its baneful breath 

To poison love's rosy bowers; 
If I knew when I pressed her soft, white hand. 

And caressed her at the gate, 
And said my good-by with a lover's kiss, 

She was really my soul's true mate. 

If I only knew that, if we were wed, 

No bitterness e'er would come, 
No discord rise or no harrowing strife 

To mar the delights of home; 
If I knew that our tastes and needs were one, 

This bliss of the marriage state, 
I could clasp my pearl to my heart and feel 

She was reallv my soul's true mate. 



THE RUMSELLER'S RETRIBUTION 115 



THE RUMSELLER'S RETRIBUTION. 

He lay in his cell that last, last night, 
With horror and dread of returning day; 

For too well he knew that the morning light 
Would strangle his wretched life away. 

And before him loomed up the guilty past, 

And the murderous deed that had brought him there, 

While the future wierd shadows of darkness cast, 
With its raven wings of black despair. 

He sees his numberless victims slain — 

How they rise before him in this dread hour! 

He hears the cries of distress and pain 

In the homes lie has wrecked by the rum-fiend's power. 

Then he thought of the mother whose trusting boy 
lie had lured away to the gates of death, 

Her staff in age and her hope and joy — 

I low she cursed him with even her latest breath. 

"God do unto yon," the white lips said, 

"As yon to my strength, my pride and joy"; 

"And to-morrow," he groaned, "will find me dead, 
And face to face with the widow's boy." 

"My fate is just," he exclaimed at last. 

As he gazed around him with brain on tire; 
And away in the darkness the spirit passed ; 

It had come at last — retribution dire. 



Hi; DARKNESS AND DAWX 



IN THE ROSE GARDEN. 

Tin: first to greet me is my friend 

Rugosa, brave ami bold; 
He fears not summer's scorching heat 

Nor winter's freezing cold; 
And when I clip bis bead, to make 

A beautiful bouquet, 
He heeds it not, but gives me sweet 

New blossoms every day. 

Next Mad. Georges Bruant find, 

A regal beauty she; 
Her large white buds are beautiful, 

And fragrant as a "Tea." 
I clip her, too, (she don't resent,) 

For foliage fresh and bright ; 
She 's full of buds the summer through, 

A joy and real delight. 

And here is Xavier Olibo, 

A presence rich and rare, 
In robes of bright, dark crimson hue, 

And sweet as be is fair; 
He is a royal, regal rose, 

With manner debonair; 
He gives me large and perfect bloom. 

And well rewards my care. 



IN THE HOSE HARDEN 117 

Souvenir De La Malmaison, 

A pretty Frenchy name, 
Is claimed by one, a pink blush rose, 

Of matchless Bourbon fame; 
She 's lovely as a summer dream, 

Most exquisite and sweet, 
And lives out doors all winter, when 

Protected at her feet. 

Maria Bauman — who can paint 

Or who depict her charms, 
Her dazzling crimson scarlet bloom, 

So fresh and rich and warm? 
She charms all hearts; her loveliness 

Can ne'er by art be shown ; 
But in the garden she displays 

A glory all her own. 

Ilerniosa — this the dearest rose, 

The truest friend of all; 
I find her full of buds and bloom 

From June till chilly fall. 
So hardy, too; if I forget 

To cover up her feet 
From winter's cold 't is all the same ; 

She laughs at snow and sleet. 
Many are larger, richer far, 

And finer than my best ; 
But she in sterling qualities 

Surpasses all the rest. 



118 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

There 's Mad. Rothschild, Crested Moss, 

Both delicately fine ; 
Paul Neyron's lovely large pink bloom 

Can many more outshine. 
Victor Verdier is staunch and true, 

An old and trusted friend; 
lie Ml <jive yon bloom all summer long. 

And much of sweetness lend. 

Jean Liahaud's rich velvet robes 

Are glorious to behold ; 
lie 's hardy as a maple-tree, 

Nor cares for heat nor cold ; 
But he 's quite chary of his charms, 

He comes but twice a year; 
Bui gracious welcome waits him when 
His lordship deigns t' appear. 

Of hosts of others 1 could speak, 

La France and Appoline 
I place within the diadem 

Of this, my floral queen; 
There 's Captain Christy, Fisher Holms, 

And many more as sweet, 
But time will fail to note them all, 

And make the list complete, 

O gorgeous, peerless Rose! Thou art 

The fairest and the best 
Of all fair Nature's floral gems, 

Rival of all the rest; 



THOUGHTS 11!) 

Though hundreds more are passing sweet, 

And wondrous fair to see, 
If but one flower I could possess, 

I 'd give them all for thee. 



THOUGHTS. 

Every gentle act, my sister, 

Every word of kindly cheer, 
Which has soothed some soul despairing, 

Which has dried some burning tear, 
Makes thine own heart larger, purer. 

Makes thine own life richer, too, 
Pills with restful peace thy bosom, 

Sweet as drops of evening dew. 

Every noble deed, my brother, 

That will lift thy fellowman 
Upward in the scale of being, 

Higher in fair Nature's plan, 
(Jives thee grander inspiration. 

Swells thy breast with loftier aim, 
Leaves in hearts and homes around thee, 

Cherished memories of thv name. 



120 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



WHEN YOU WERE WED. 

Inscribed to old friends on (he forty-fifth anniversary oi 
their marriage, July 28, 1898. 

Two trusting souls, in life's sweet rosy spring, 

Blended and laid a precious offering 

On Cupid's altar, consecrating life 

Each to the other, through this vale of strife; 

Love's silken cords their willing hearts entwined, 

And Harmony sat as a queen enshrined, 

When you were wed- 
Long years have passed, dear friends, since that bright day. 
And to eternity have sped away. 
The Dove of Peace and Sorrow's raven wing 
Have touched your lives; you 've heard the joy-birds sing, 
Have listened to the wailing sounds of grief, 
And to the suffering ones have borne relief, 

Since you were wed. 

Kingdoms have fallen, thrones have crumbled down, 
Scattered have been the scepter and the crown; 
The slave power crushed, and Cuba almost free, 
We fathom not the glories yet to be, 
This grand old earth has wiser, better grown, 
Right lifted up, and error overthrown, 
Since you were wed. 



TRUE HEROES 12] 



Beloved friends, as onward still yon glide 
Adown life's turbulent, tumultuous tide, 
May brighter visions all your being bless, 
Your lives be crowned with radiant happiness; 
Ma} r smiling Heaven, as kindly as of yore, 
Send brighter days than ever dawned before, 
Since you were wed. 

And now as life's decline your feet must trace, 
May love and harmony supply the place 
Of youthful graces; may life's setting sun 
Cast radiance on your labor nobly done; 
May roses bloom as sweetly on your way, 
As long ago they did on that bright day, 
When yon were wed. 



TRUE HEROES. 

TRUE heroes have fallen on battle-fields gory, 

Have yielded their lives for the right and the just; 

Have died for the truth, not for fame or for glory, 
And snnk in earth's bosom to mingle with dust. 

But heroes there are, and their number is legion, 

Who Ve conquered and won without weapons of death ; 

Who 've dauntlessly stood in the enemy's region, 
And firm and unfaltering have yielded their breath. 



122 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

There are heroes whose battles with calm resignation 

They 've fonght at the hearthstone and vanquished the foe; 

Who 've stemmed all alone the dark tide of temptation, 
And were not o'erwhelmed by its turbulent flow. 

We find all around us true heroes arc 1 dwelling, 

Who "ve wrestled with poverty, joined hands with pain; 

Their story of Conquest the ages are telling, 

Somewhere on their brow shall the victory reign. 



WRITTEN IN COMMEMORATION OF THE SEVEN- 
TY-FIRST BIRTHDAY OF A FRIEND, 
DECEMBER 19, 1899. 

How fair, how beauteous is the eastern sky, 
When gilded by the Day-king's golden light, 

As, tracing his ascending, heavenward way. 

His cheering rays make earth all warm and bright ! 

'T is thus the rosy morn of youth appears, 
All sweet and radiant as the new-born day; 

Life's cup is filled with nectar to the brim, 

And fragrant flowers bloom all along the way. 

But as the sun recedes when day is done, 
Leaving the world to shadow and to stars, 

So life's bright morning passes swift away, 
And age with somber lines its radiance mars. 



ON THE BIRTHDAY OF A FRIEND 123 

Then as to mortal sense the eye grows dim, 

The step is no more buoyant as of yore; 
We fail to compass our supreme desire, 

But strong the ego, youthful as before. 

'T is but imprisoned in the form of clay, 

And patiently its enfranchisement waits; 
Full, glorious freedom then the soul shall gain 

Beyond the bounds of time's confining gates. 

And now, dear friend, may loving angels guard 
And cheer you as you near life's setting sun ; 

Their benedictions fall upon your head, 
Their smiles upon your labor nobly done. 

As winter's silvery frosts shall deck your brow, 
Within your heart may fresh, sweet violets spring; 

And while comes age the mortal sense to dim, 
Your listening soul may hear the love-birds sing. 

May jo.yance from the home beyond earth's dole 

Illuminate and cheer your upward way, 
Till guerdon comes for life's unrest and care, 

And the freed spirit sees the perfect day. 



1 24 DA I! KNESS AND I>. I 1 1 '.V 



A PARODY. 

If skies were brighter, if hearts were lighter, 

The breezes balmy o'er land and sea ; 
If friends were truer, if foes were fewer, 

"What a Utopia this would be!" 
If love were deathless, if hate were breathless, 

If right, abiding, bade error flee, 
If truth grew fairer and falsehood rarer, 

"What an Arcadia this would be!" 

If homes for sweetness and full completeness 

Were types of the homeland beyond life's sea. 
If fond hearts never were doomed to sever, 

"What a Utopia this would be!" 
If every meeting were kindly greeting, 

If joy would tarry, if grief would flee, 
If earth could borrow surcease from sorrow, 

"What an Arcadia this would be!" 



.I/}' DARLING'S SILVERY HAIR 125 



MY DARLING'S SILVERY HAIR. 

Every silvered thread, my darling, 

( rleaniing through your locks of gold, 
Every furrow on your brow, love, 

Tells me you are growing old ; 
But to me your just as precious 

As the bride of long ago, 
Though your eyes have lost their brightness 

And your cheeks their rosy glow. 

We have walked through life together, 

And your sweet, confiding love 
Never for a moment wavered, 

True and constant as the dove; 
And your silvery locks, my darling, 

Though they tell me youth has flown, 
Are as dear as golden ringlets 

While your heart is all my own. 

Sons and daughters stand around us 

In their strength and youthful prime. 
All their happy voices blending 

In a sweet, harmonious chime. 
May they linger near to cheer us 

Till we reach life's setting sun; 
May its close be calm and peaceful 

And our work be nobly done. 



126 DARKNESS AM) DAWN 



AUTUMN. 

Burning leaves, burning leaves, 
Everywhere somebody burning leaves, — 
Cast-off robes of the maple trees, 
Borne to the earth by the autumn breeze. 

Burning leaves, burning leaves, 
Everywhere odor of burning leaves; 
For the summers verdure the spirit grieves, 
For naught remains but the burning leaves. 

Baking leaves, raking leaves, 
Everywhere raking the rustling leaves, 
Piling them up for a funeral pyre, 
Waiting the touch of devouring fire. 

Falling leaves, falling leaves, 

Earth's withered shroud which the Frost King weaves, 

Leaving the trees all bare and brown 

Like stern, lone sentinels stationed round. 

Faded leaves, yellow leaves, 
Summer's foliage the earth receives ; 
We sigh in vain for the fragrant breath 
Which the cruel frosts have consigned to death. 

Withered leaves, withered leaves, 

A winding sheet which the autumn weaves 



TO A VETERAN TEMPERANCE REFORMER 127 

For the sear brown earth as she sinks to rest, 
Pillowed away on stern Nature's breast. 

Tinted leaves, golden leaves, 
Last farewell which sweet summer leaves; 
Sadly we gaze on thy closing hours, 
Beautiful season of buds and flowers. 



TO A VETERAN TEMPERANCE REFORMER ON 
HER EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY, APRIL 25, 1896. 

Thou art nearing the shore, thou bravo, true heart, 
Where the home thou hast builded thy soul awaits, 

And a glorious guerdon will there be given 

When thy spirit enters its vine wreathed gates. 

The world has recorded thy valiant deeds 

By voice and pen for humanity's sake, 
Thy tireless labor, thy steadfast aim 

While striving the rum-fiend's power to break. 

While bearing the burden of fourscore years, 

May the sweet assurance of duty done 
With rest and comfort thy being fill, 

And brighten the gold of thy setting sun. 

A little while longer, true, faithful heart, 

And thy earnest pleadings on earth shall cease, 

And angel voices shall call thee home 
To the blessed calm of eternal peace. 



1 28 D ■ I R KNESS A ND DAW TV 



I9OI-1902. • 

1901— 

His joys and his sorrows are done. 

1902 

Comes forth all radiant and new. 

1901 

lias looked on his last setting sun. 

1902 

Dawns fresh and youthful and new. 

1901 

Is glad that his tasks are all done. 

1902 

Is strong for all lahor to do. 

Dear old 1901, 

We give thanks for the good he has done, 

But for 1902 

There remains yet a greater to do. 

Oh, may 1902, 

Harhinger of the grand and the new. 
Be strong for the right and the true, 
Bo fearless to dare and to do. 

We'll hail 1902; 

He dawns sweet and pure as the dew. 
King the old out and ring in the new, 
And bid the dear old vear adieu. 



IN MEMORY OF A DEAR SCHOOL FRIEND 129 



IN MEMORY OF A DEAR SCHOOL FRIEND. 

Another waits on the shining shore, 

Freed from earth's anguish and torturing pain, 

Life's weary labor and conflicts sore; 
All our loss we will count as gain. 

I looked on her vacant and silent form, 
All wasted and worn by disease and pain. 

And I saw her not, but the radiant smile 
Of her joyous youth I beheld again. 

One of our trio of school friends gone. 
Friends tried and true in the long ago; 

Thirza, the first one to reach the dawn; 
Mary or I will be next to go. 

Which will death call for? It matters not. 

So that life's duties are nobly done, 
So that on earth we have grandly wrought. 

Which coineth first to life's setting sun. 

Loved friend ami sister, we say, Farewell. 

When a few more years have gone gliding by, 
A sweet, new joy shall our bosoms swell, 

When we meet again in the "by and by." 

There we shall find a reunion sweet ; 

The dear old friendships we '11 there renew; 



130 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Our broken circle will be complete, 

And the true old love will* again be new. 

joy undying! O bliss supreme! 

When love's bright jewels, though scattered wide 
All shall be gathered, and brighter beam 

In Heaven's own diadem, side by side. 



COME INTO THE SUNSHINE. 

Come into the sunshine; life's journey 's too short 

To waste upon discord and strife; 
If the harsh word is spoken, just let it pass by, 

For love is the sunshine of life. 
If for each act unkind, or each bitter retort, 

We would send in return a kind thought, 
'T would calm the rough waves, and the zephyrs of peace 

Would bring angry passions to naught. 

Come into the sunshine, don't dwell in the cloud, 

Ride not in the darkness and night ; 
Forgiveness will bring its own cherished reward 

In strength for the true and the right. 
Let the error pass by, though the duty be hard; 

Each mortal has much to forgive; 
Recompense will be sweet, 't will uplift and expand, 

That tine, purer lives we may live. 



TO A BABY BOY 131 

Come into the sunshine, my friend ; it is good 

In the sunlight of friendship to dwell. 
There are friends true and kind all life's journey along, 

With joy every bosom to swell. 
Their sympathy soothes us in sorrow and gloom, 

Will lighten each burden we bear, 
Give strength for our weakness and balm for our pain, 

And solace for many a care. 



TO A BABY BOY. 

I COULD wish thy life, dear baby, 

To be full of joy, 
No dark clouds to mar its brightness, 

Precious baby boy ; 
I could wish no sorrows ever 

Would thy bosom fill, 
That no thorns might strew thy pathway, 

But 1 know they will. 

As thy tiny bark comes floating 

Out on life's rough sea, 
I could wish no stormy billows 

E'er would compass thee. 
I could wish thy life-line leading 

To some sheltered spot 
Where! no pain or grief can enter, 

But I know 't will not. 



132 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

Little one, for life's great battle 

May thy soul be strong; 
May'st thou stand for truth and honor 

'Gainst the false and wrong; 
Grow to good and noble manhood, 

Brave for truth and right, 
And by lofty, pure endeavor 

Make thy future bright. 

— Your mother's old friend. 



SOMETIME. 

Shall I find, sometime in the future ages, 

Some quiet nook, some sequestered spot, 
Where sweet-voiced harmony only dwelleth, 

And discord and bitterness enter not; 
Where only kind, loving words are spoken 

Which leave no rasping and harrowing sting, 
No wounds with their pain and their bitter aching 

No cruel and haunting memories bring? 

Does the goal of my hopes and my spirit's yearning 

Still nearer approach with the passing years? 
Shall 1 find in that bourne where my soul is turning 

Respite from earth's sorrows and griefs and tears? 
Does each surging wave bear the good ship onward, 

Bringing her nearer the restful shore, 
Nearer the port where she casts her anchor. 

Where the mad billows shall dash no more? 



IN THE SALOON 133 



Shall I find a clime where no serpent enters 

With poisonous venom to sting ray breast, 
But through all its quiet and restful bowers 

The dove of peace builds her downy nest; 
Where love is changeless and all enduring. 

Where fond affection will dearer grow, 
Where through all the land like a placid river 

Content and joy will perpetual flow? 



IN THE SALOON. 

Dead and bleeding upon the floor, 

Once some fond mother's darling boy; 

Mortal conflict with hi in is o'er, 

Sonic mother's hope and pride and joy. 

Tender kisses were fondly pressed 
On this bleeding and pallid brow; 

Once in the arms of love caressed ; 

Death's pale messenger claims him now. 

Rum, the demon, has laid him low, 

Crushed and blighted the hopes of years, 

Wrought this sorrow and bitter woe, 

Brought to the home this grief and tears. 

This is but one of the thousands slain, 
Stricken down by the rum-fiend's power; 



DARKNESS AND DA li'.V 

Tli is but a tithe of the bitter pain. 
Filling the record of every hour. 

From every portion of this fair land, 
Palace or hovel, the cry comes up; 

Loved ones are slain by the spoiler's hand, 
Victims alike of the maddening cup. 

When shall the serpent's power be stayed? 

When be restricted the power to kill? 
When shall our manhood in strength arrayed 

Fetter this curse by the power of will? 

When shall our boyhood and youth be free? 

When shall the reign of the tyrant cease? 
When shall the home and the fireside be 

Sacred refuge of rest and peace? 

Heaven speed the day when on every hand 
Right and justice mankind shall sway, 

Virtue and purity crown our land, 
Crime and its misery pass away. 



TO A HI! IDE 135 



TO A BRIDE. 

And so you 're married, dear, and caught at last 

And held a willing captive in the toils 

Of that enchanting thing that men call "love," 

The sweetest, dearest thing in mortal life, 

And yet the essence of all bitterness. 

How dear and sweel no mortal ever knew 

Till her own lips had quaffed the precious draught, 

Felt the entrancing, all delirious joy 

That with delicious rapture, sweeter than 

The nectar of the gods, thrills all the soul 

With fond ecstatic, all-ahsorbing bliss. 

How bitter is known only to the heart 

Whose cup is turned to wormwood, whose bright lamp 

of love has burned away, leaving its wick 

All charred and blackened, and life's lonely path 

All drear and dark — this heart alone can know 

The bitterness, the anguish of the soul, 

The utter woe of love. 

() dear, sweet dream, 
Would that it could endure. Why should it prove, 
Alas, so oft unreal in waking hours? 
May you dream on forever — newer wake 
To find, dear girl, love's dear, delicious sweets 
To ashes turned. Dear God, avert this fate. 

Darling, I pray that you may never feel, 
That never to your pure young life may come 



13(1 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

The utter emptiness, the bitter (Irons 

That cometh often after draughts of joy, 

The bitter desolation of the heart 

From whom love's liij'ht departs — on whom love's sun 

lias set in shadow dark to rise no more. 

Enjoy life's spring, dear girl, it may be fleet; 
May days soon pass, they will not linger long; 
They speed away, alas! alas! too soon, 
And scarcely leave a ripple on the wave; 
Soon summer with its scorching noontide heat 
Will bid thee pause, some cool retreat to find, 
Some shelter from the sun's meridian rays. 



A CHRISTMAS THANKSGIVING. 

Our hearts beat to-night with a joyful thanksgiving, 
With gladsome emotions and gratitude swell; 

Our lives have been hallowed by benisons many; 

We 've listened once more to the glad Christmas bell. 

We 're grateful for life, with its joys and its sorrows, 
Its lights and its shadows, its gladness and care; 

Its grief and rejoicing, its sunshine and darkness, 
For health and for courage its burdens to bear. 

We 're glad we are able to care for the needy, 
Can proffer our aid to the poor and distressed; 



A CHRISTMAS THANKSGIVING 137 

Can lighten their burdens and cheer the sad hearted, 
And feel that in blessing we also are blest. 

We 're thankful for quiet and peace in our borders, 
That the sun of prosperity- shines warm and bright, 

That war's dread alarm has as yet been averted, 
That we 're not in Japan* or in China to-night. 

For turkey we 're grateful as well as the eagle; 

The physical being must also be fed, 
For while we ;uc sojourning here in the mortal, 

Though freedom is ours, we must have daily bread. 

We 're thankful that when the deep waters of sorrow 

Like great heaving billows have covered us o'er, 
And grief like an avalanche, deep and o'erwhelming, 

Conies dashing upon us like waves on the shore, 

The angels of heaven, with their sweet benedictions, 

Are near to uplift us, to strengthen and cheer, 
To soothe by their presence the heart's bitter aching, 

All radiant with love from a holier sphere. 

For our friends we give thanks, for our homes and our hearthstones. 
For power to perform what our hands find to do, 

For numberless blessings, unnoticed and countless, 
And last, but not least, for our dear Entre Nous.f 

♦Chinese and Japanese war. -fk literary club. 



138 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



FORSAKEN. 

In the calm, still hour of midnight, 
Given to man for balmy sleep, 

Many sad and suffering mortals 
Wakeful lie to mourn and wee]). 

E'en the silent midnight zephyrs 

Cannot lull to peaceful rest 
Eyes that ache with weary weeping, 
Hearts with bitter wrongs oppressed. 

Oft I wonder if my dear ones 

Over on the shining shore 
Are around my tear-stained pillow; 

Do they love me as of yore? 

Do they come with kind caressing, 
Press fond kisses on my brow? 

When in agony I call them, 
Do they always hear me now? 

How I wonder what they 're doing! 

Does my anguish give them pain? 
Do they weep when floods of sorrow 

Fill my eyes and heart and brain? 

Do they whisper to my spirit 
Words of comfort and of cheer? 

Do they bring sweet benedictions, 
Wipe away the burning tear? 



MY DREAMLAND HOME 139 

Do they come with blessed visions 

Of the home of rest and peace, 
Where life's grief shall end in blessing, 

And life's bitterness shall eease? 

Oh, that with an open vision 

I could fold them to my breast, 
And could float away forever 

To the land of peaceful rest. 



MY DREAMLAND HOME. 

In a far-away realm lies a Dreamland shore, 

All beauteous and fair to see, 
And the friends that I loved in the dear, fond past 

Are all waiting there for me. 
The love-light shines in their true, tender eyes, 

Earth's bitterness all is o'er; 
And I greet each dear one with a fond embrace 

In my home on the Dreamland shore. 

My heart grows aweary of life's turmoil, 

Its grievings and its unrest; 
And I long to recline in the fragrant bowers 

Of the land of peaceful rest ; 
And when night's curtains enclose me around, 

And the strife of day is o'er, 
I hie me away to my cherished home, 

My home on the Dreamland shore. 



140 DARKNESS AND DA ll'.V 

()li, balmy the breeze in my dreamland home, 

The flowers are all fair and bright ; 
There the roses bloom without ever a thorn, 

A joy and a real delight ; 
And I wait in faith, and the years draw near 

When earth's dreams will all be o'er, 
When the home I love will be real and true, 

And no longer a Dreamland shore. 



DEATH OF A MOTHER. 

How all unfathomable are thy ways, 
Omnipotence! Thy edicts spare not age 
Nor rank, nor rate, nor worth; Death's shafts alike 
Fall everywhere. We seem to understand 
When childhood's innocence is borne from hence 
In all its sinless purity, that from 
Earth's dole it has escaped. 
When age, 
With its infirmities and feebleness, 
And for the harvest ripe like sheaves of grain, 
Is gathered home, we murmur not, nor grieve 
For its transition, for we know that it 
Is well. 

But when we look again and see 
A faithful mother taken from her home, 
Leaving a vacancy, an aching void 
Around the hearth, which no one else can fill 



BIRTHDAY THOU (HITS 141 

Within the hearts of those who loved her, those 
To whom her life, her earnest care was given, 
Our eves are holden, and we cannot see, 
We cannot bring our hearts to feel that this 
Is best ; her dear ones need her so ; they need 
Her counsels wise to guide their youthful feel 
In life's uncertain path ; but she is gone; 
All conquering Death has claimed her mortal life, 
And to the mandate stern we can but how 
In calm submission. Somewhere we shall know, 
Shall look upon what now appears so dark 
And feel within our hearts that all was best. 



BIRTHDAY THOUGHTS. 

To an old school-friend. 

Out upon life's ocean dark, 
Drifting with its ebb and How, 

Floated forth a tiny barque, 
Four and sixty years ago. 

Cast upon an unknown sea, 

All untried and strange and new — 
Has the voyage brought to thee 

Sunny days and skies of blue, 

Gentle zephyrs, stars of night 
Looking down with kindly eyes, 

With fair Luna's mellow light 

Streaming from the radiant skies? 



142 DA R KNESS . I ND 1> . II VN 

When those tranquil days were past 
Have the storms come wailing by, 

Dashing waves and chilling blast, 
Blackest clouds athwart thy sky? 

"Yes," thy voice I seem to hear 

Whispering low, "The storms and night 

Made the heavens dark and drear, 
Banished every ray of light. 

"Billows foamed above my head, 
Wildly tossed my barque oh high, 

Till at last the tempests fled, 

Calm o'erspread the troubled sky." 

Thou art passing near the shore, 
Cherished friend of long ago, 

Where life's storms can rage no more 
Best and peace thy heart shall know. 

Sometime, in reunion sweet, 

Friends we 've loved long, long ago, 

Somewhere, all again shall greet 
Where enduring friendships flow. 



WEEP NOT 14H 



WEEP NOT. 

Why weep for the rose that is dead? 

Though its petals are scattered and sear, 
There are others as sweet, which the senses shall greet, 

And as dear to thy heart may appear. 

Why mourn for the friend that has proved 

Unworthy of faith and of trust? 
There is gold hid away in the darkness to-day, 

Defying time's canker and rust. 

From hopes long consigned to the tomb 

New joys from the ashes may spring; 
Bright sunbeams may rise from the dark, lowering skies, 

And balm to thy stricken heart bring. 

All in vain do we weep, but the tears 

Unavailing, unbidden will fall, 
When out from her throne a dear presence hath flown, 

And left only sorrow's dark pall. 

Oh, yield not, sad heart, to thy grief, 

The dawn after darkness appears; 
Be strong and endure, and thy guerdon is sure, 

Though wrought through affliction and tears. 



144 DARKNESS AND DAWN 



THE FAIRER SHORE. 

There is a fair and tranquil shore 

Beyond life's surging ocean, 
Where tempests cease and storms are o'er, 
The foaming billows dash no more, 

Unshed is their wild commotion. 

A land where purest joys abound, 

And peace, like flowing river, 
Fills all the dear, enchanted ground; 
There strife and discord are not found 

Through all the blest forever. 

There is a home beyond earth's tide, 

Its bitterness and sorrow, 
Where love and confidence abide 
And dearest joys on earth denied 

In Eden's bright to-morrow. 

Be patient then, my weary soul, 
Be hushed, my longing spirit ; 
When time's dark billows cease to roll 
Thy feet shall press the longed-for goal. 
Thy glorious home inherit. 



SUBMISSIVE BUT NOT RECONCILED 145 



SUBMISSIVE BUT NOT RECONCILED. 

'T is Fate's behest, and we must submit, 

Though the tempest's furious wrath 
Has hurled destruction, complete and dire, 

In its desolating path. 
When the home and all that the heart holds dear 

Is swept by its fury wild, 
We can only bow to the stern decree, 

But we cannot be reconciled. 

When Time brings the wreck of the dearest hopes, 

And buries them deep away. 
We can only yield to his iron will, 

And his stern behests obey; 
But the ghosts of the past come floating back, 

With their forms so weird and wild, 
We must yield to Fate's unsparing hand, 

But we cannot be reconciled. 



in 



140 DARKNESS AND DAWS 



LIFE'S BITTEREST LESSON. 

On, when wilt thou grant me the boon I crave, 

O pitiless, tireless, relentless Fate? 
The fortitude, patience, and power to learn 

Life's bitterest lesson, to wait, to wait? 

To wait for the footsteps whose welcome sound 
Shall fall no more on the listening ear, 

And know that the voice is silent now 

Whose accents kind we were wont to hear. 

To wait — for life's burdens we still must bear, 
Though weary our feet and dark the road; 

We journey alone spite of grief and care, 
And strength still is given to bear the load. 

To wait till sorrow's all-cleansing power 
Has refined the spirit and made it pure; 

Till the dross of sordid and base desire 

Is consumed, while the gold shall for aye endure. 

To wait for the time — sometime, somewhere, 
When the mortal casket has slept the sleep 

Which awaiteth all, — we the lost shall greet 
And be united, no more to weep. 

We all must learn it through bitter tears, 
Thou heedest not, O unsparing Fate! 



HOME COURTESY 147 

Though the heart with anguish be rent in twain, — 
The lesson of life — to endure and wait. 

Oh, linger, ye angel guardians, near ; 

(live courage to wait till life's race is run; 
Give strength to suffer and labor on 

Till we come at last to life's settim? sun. 



HOME COURTESY. 

How easy it is to say, "Thank you," 

When one has a kindness shown; 
It is always balm to the spirit 

To hear the grateful tone; 
It is pleasing from all around us, 

Prom stranger or guest or friend, 
But the kindly words from the home folks 

An added sweetness lend. 

When you ask or desire a favor, 

The courteous, "Will you please," 
Makes it easier far to serve you — 

There is magic in words like these. 
Politeness is always pleasant, 

Wherever you wait or roam, 
But it shines with an added luster 

Y\ 'lien it comes from the folks at home. 



148 DAMKNESS AND DAWN 

We never would think of asking 

A favor of friend or guest 
Unless the charm of politeness 

Accompanied the request; 
But alas ! we forget so often 

That the mild and kind request 
Palls sweet like a musical cadence 

On the hearts that we love the best. 

Politeness pays in our business, 

And in all the walks of life, 
In all intercourse with our fellows. 

In the marts of toil and strife, 
In every by-way we travel, 

Wherever we chance to roam, 
But it doubly pays the investment 

When shown to the folks at home. 



TO , ON SEVENTY-SEVENTH BIRTHDAY U9 



TO , ON A SEVENTY-SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 

AUGUST 21, 1899. 

The soul knows not decay; 
Though white-robed winter on the brow is king, 
Within the heart the fresh green violets spring 

lake sweet May-day. 

The ego ageth not, 
Although the mortal form grows bent and old, 
And crumbles hack to its primeval mold. 

To he forgot. 

Mjnd, the real man, lives on. 
When Death to mortal sense his work has done, 
The spirit, deathless, tireless as the sun, 

Beholds the dawn. 

Endless progression waits, 
Guerdon of all our mortal griefs and tears; 
And age brings ripeness for the radiant years, 

Beyond the sates. 



150 DAMKNESS AND DAWN 



HOUSE-CLEANING. 

'T is the bore of all the season, always visits us in May, 

When stovepipes must be taken down, and stoves all put away; 

E're they 're safe in summer quarters, we shall hear full many a 

swear, 
For 't is then man's Christian virtues vanish in transparent air. 

There 's the carpets to be lifted, and the weary war begun, 
That, with moth and dust, must last from dawn until the set of sun; 
And the toil-worn housewife wishes she could lead a gypsy's life 
'Neath the canopy of Nature, far from civilizing strife. 



THE NOM DE PLUME. 

I saw such a beautiful poem to-day. 

And I wondered me who the writer could be, 

But I read to the end, and I only found, 
Which told me not bin,"', the name, "Zulee." 

And who is Zulee? Kind friends, I pray. 
If a web is woven from fancy's loom, 

Or a tale of truth you have to tell, 
Don't hide it under a nom de plume. 

Let your craft be known by its own true name, 
The name takes not from the rose's bloom ; 

Fling out your own colors upon the breeze; 
Don't sail in under a nom de plume. 



NEARER THE GOAL 151 



NEARER THE GOAL. 

A Sacred Song. 

Tarry in patience, 

Trust, O my soul ; 

Each trial brings thee 

Nearer the goal, 
Nearer the haven blest ; 
Hushed there the heart's unrest ; 
Nearer life's weary quest, 

Home of the soul. 

Each hitter sorrow, 

Each burning tear. 
Each treasure yielded, 

However dear. 
Loosens thy hold on earth, 
This land of sin and dearth, 
Paints one of purer birth, 

Some holier sphere. 

Night may bring sadness. 

Anguish, and pain ; 
Morning will kindly 

Bring peace again ; 
Each star that fades from sight 
(Jives place to one more bright, 
Sending forth clearer light; 

Loss counts but gain. 



152 DARKNESS AND DAWN 

After the darkness, 

Rose-tinted mora ; 
After the tempest 

Sunbeams are born ; 
After earth's cheerless night 
Bursts on the raptured sight, 
Radiant with holy light, 
Heaven's glorious dawn. 



MY OWN. 

"Serene, I fold my hands and wait, 
Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea; 

I rave no more 'piinst time or fate, 
For lo! my own sball come to me." 

— John "Burroughs. 

I stood, in a dream, on a bleak, barren mountain. 

An hungered, athirst, 
When lo! at my feet a pure life-giving fountain 

From out the rocks burst. 

I gazed all around, and a view rose before me 

Of fruit laden trees. 
Whose branches, beneath their rich burdens, bent o'er me, 

And swayed in the breeze. 

I ate, and refreshed me; the life current, welling. 

Coursed swiftly again; 
My heart with its fullness of gratitude swelling, 

I laughed at my pain. 



MY OWN 153 

With grateful emotion, I then, in my dreaming, 

Resigned me to rest ; 
With faith that the guidance above my life beaming 
Rules all for the best. 

I stand on the rocks of life's steep, rugged mountain, 

Aweary, alone; 
My soul longs to drink from Love's pure, crystal fountain, — 

I sigh for my own. 

Be still, O my heart! cease thy grief and repining! 

Thine own thou shalt see. 
All bright through the darkness a rainbow is shining; 

The shadows shall flee. 

All calmly I '11 rest; for I know, on life's billows, 

They 're drifting like me. 
Though Fate has suspended my harp on the willows, 

They 're seeking for me. 

Be patient, my soul ! for I know they are coming ; 

Nor tempests nor sea 
Can gainsay our kinship, for lo! in the gloaming 

They 're coming to me. 

Though tossed by the storms of Time's pitiless ocean, 

Heart hungry and sore, 
The rude, howling winds and the tempest's commotion 

Shall waft me to shore. 



154 DARKNESS AND DA WN 



IF I COULD MAKE A WORLD. 

If I could make a world, I would have done 

With pain and sorrow ; every human heart 

I 'd fill with joy. I 'd make all peoples good, 

All lives harmonious. The white angel, Peace, 

Should spread her snowy wings and hover o'er 

Fair Nature's wide expanse; and happiness 

Should dwell in every hreast. I 'd have no hate. 

No jarring discords; love alone should reign 

Through all the happy realm, first and supreme. 

I would exclude all wrong; right should make might. 

Disease should be unknown; I would make health 

Contagious, — health and purity. The seeds 

Of kindness should he scattered far and wide. 

And germinate through all the wide domain. 

Man should not live by preying on the beast, 

Shedding the blood of innocence to feed 

His grosser nature, making it more gross; 

His food should be the fruits and products of 

The earth. The beasts should not kill and devour 

And fear and hate each other, but in peace 

Live each his quiet life without a fear. 

I 'd have man recognize the Golden Rule 

Throughout his whole existence, both to man 

His brother, and the gentle animals 

Who do his bidding and obey his will. 

The law of kindness and of love should sway 

And govern all, — if I could make a world. 



M Y HE A YEN 155 



MY HEAVEN. 

I ask not for a harp or glittering crown, 
Or city with its streets all paved with gold, 
Bounded by jasper walls and gates of pearl ; 
No gilded palaces or marble halls, 
No jewels rich, or royal robes I crave, 
Or retinue of serfs to do my will ; 
(live me some quiet home where love abides, 
Where dwelleth confidence and harmony — 

A garden where unfading roses bloom, 

Whose fragrant breath thrills every sense with joy, 

Where like a river, grand, majestic, deep, 

Peace flows through all the beautiful expanse, 

And discord enters not. 

1 want m}' friends, 
Friends who are true and loyal, those whose hearts 
Kespond to mine in tender sympathy; 
A home where kindness rules, where strife comes not 
To mar the sweet content; where bickerings 
Are all unknown, and words of bitterness 
Are never heard ; affection pure and true 
Pills all the realm, and by its sacred power 
Drives out all baser passions. 

I, methinks, 
Would tire of glittering crowns and gems and gold ; 
( live me the old new jewels of the heart, 



156 DA /,' KNUSS A ND DAWN 

The new old gems which fairer, brighter grow, 
And beam with sweet resplendence on the soul 
Through all the future ages; this to me 
Would be a home of bliss, a perfect heaven. 



THE ROSE. 

She sits in her regal perfection, 
Unrivaled in gardens and bowers; 
I bow to her scepter, and crown her 
The queen of all beautiful flowers. 
I love all the sweet floral kingdom, 
They all many pleasures impart, 
But, oh, give me roses forever; 
They hold the first place in my heart. 

Oh, weave her a garland of roses, 
Who stands at the altar to-night, 
Fit emblems of love and devotion, 
Which sorrow and time cannot blight. 
Yes, strew them all over her pathway; 
In years yet to come they may be 
A mem'ry to comfort and cheer her 
While sailing life's turbulent sea. 

When low lies the head in the casket, 
Bring roses to soften the gloom ; 
Their presence can light up the darkness, 
And beautify even the tomb. 



not all in vain 157 

They point us to gardens eternal, 
Where roses unfading shall blow, 
Where sorrow and death do not enter, 
And loved ones no parting shall know. 



NOT ALL IN VAIN. 

If 1 shall have made some burden lighter, 
Though wrought through sorrow and bitter pain; 

If I shall have made some sad life brighter, 
Then mine shall not have been lived in vain. 

If I shall have cheered by the wine of gladness 
Some spirit thirsting for Love's pure rain, 

Have kindled hope and dispelled its sadness. 
My life shall not have been lived in vain. 



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